Rock Your World
by Shinsun
Summary: I drew the cover pic. After the battle with Buu, Goku is left with a lot of time on his hands and feels rather superfluous. At the request of his wife to find some way to occupy himself, he takes up guitar and learns to write his own songs. However the death of his wife and a seemingly-one-sided obsession with a certain Saiyan Prince complicates things a lot. The plot thickens...
1. Part 1

**Rock Your World**

Part 1 – Music, In Every Sense of the Word

I have the words on my lips, the melody in my mind, and yet the music never makes its way to the six delicate metal strings of the crimson, Gibson electric guitar dubbed "_Ongaku_". The name itself literally meant "_music_" and yet somehow, I simply can't create the cascades of smooth, flowing notes that could qualify as such the way I had a seeming eternity ago.

_Ever since I learned to play guitar, I've been fascinated by the sound; by how easy it is to turn silence into music with a simple glide of fingers over those taut, silver strings. Why not now, when my emotions have all but written a song for me in my head?_

I shake my head ruefully; _I guess some emotions are too big to voice…_

Sprawling on my back in the grass below a tree, I stack my hands under my head and lean back, tapping my foot and tail alternately to the music in my head, music that never tasted the cusp of paper, music I never bothered to write down. _Why should I? Music I'll never play has no point._

I think back a few years; after Buu was defeated and I had nothing to do with the newfound time on my hands, Gohan had surprised me one day by asking if I had any hobbies, any _talents_ besides fighting. I had just shrugged, giving some noncommittal answer. Fighting was who I was, I didn't know if I _wanted_ to do anything else, ever. My son then informed me that I had, in ChiChi's words, been "hovering" as if bored, and that he'd been ordered to find some way to get me "out of her hair". I told him I didn't really have any real hobbies, but would be willing to take one up if it meant keeping ChiChi happy and, hopefully, not on the constant brink of thwacking me with a frying pan. My eldest son considered this for a long while, saying nothing.

My second surprise that week showed up in the form of said eldest son arriving a few days later with a gorgeous red-and-white Gibson slung over his back. He handed me the instrument without a word, and I distinctly remember staring like the idiot I am accused of being more times than I can count. I guess my clueless expression eventually pried an explanation from him.

"I asked around for some kind of hobby you might enjoy, and music seemed to be the most popular suggestion," he gestured towards the guitar, "Bulma said she could set you up with a decent guitar fairly easily – she is rich, you know – and there you have it… Why not try it out, Dad? See how it sounds?"

I had absolutely no prior experience; and, hoping to the gods that I wouldn't make a fool of myself or, worse, break the beautiful instrument, I strummed my three forefingers lightly across the bare, metal strings. A single clear, tinny note wavered in the humid mid-July air, and I was lost.

From that day on, I was _hooked. _Words became tools, emotions became a blank canvas that I could paint with inconceivable colors without raising a brush. Sounds I took for granted my entire life became _inspiration. _Oh, how I loved that word. And _love_, indeed was what it was. I was in love with music, of all kinds, of all cultures, from every corner of the godsdamned world. I bought CDs like I once bought food, and some days I would just _listen_, simply drown in the sound. Other times I played; I needed no lessons, somehow I just _knew_ how to make the guitar do what I wanted. I strummed my fingers raw, and played and played and _played._ It was an addiction, and it was beautiful. Once ChiChi complained about my inattentive nature and my eating habits, now she complained about my inattentive nature, my eating habits, and my obsession with music.

But even she had to admit, I was pretty damn talented. I even caught her swaying to the rhythm of one of my earlier compositions, and later humming the melody under her breath. I think she was proud, even if she couldn't admit it, that her good-for-nothing husband had finally found a purpose. Ahem, besides saving the universe, that is.

But that was just the beginning. I loved music, yes, and my aptitude for sound and energy made me a protégée, but I never truly knew what love was until that one fateful day. The day my wife died.

TBC


	2. Part 2

**Rock Your World**  
Part 2 – _Save Me_

I'll never forget that the first of my songs he heard was also the worst, most painful one I've ever written.

Vegeta had never heard me play; I doubted he even knew that I _did,_ but the shock, the near-revulsion and panic in his eyes as he listened to me obliviously pour out my soul still haunts me to this day.

The worst part wasn't that he heard, wasn't that, at the time, I didn't even know he was listening. The _worst_ part was that the song he happened to listen in on was about _him_. About how much I desperately wanted him, how much he obviously hated me, and how much I hated him for that.

…Let me back up; the day of ChiChi's funeral, almost three years ago today. I didn't cry, that much I know, for she had asked me not to. As I knelt beside her deathbed, clasping one of her fragile hands in my two bigger ones, I listened to her choke out her last words as an unnamed virus stole her draining life. She made me promise to take care of our sons, she made me promise to keep protecting the world, and she made me promise not to cry. All three times I said "I promise" with as much conviction as I could muster.

Then she was gone, and on that day I watched the people in black, whom I didn't even know by name, carry her casket down an aisle and set it in a roughly-hewn hole that had been dug in the earth. This time, she couldn't be wished back. She had died naturally and nothing would bring her back. This time, she would be buried; although, I hated to think of my wife, trapped and suffocating, beneath the weight of the soil above her head. Someone murmured some meaningless words and more black-clothed people filled in the hole with earth. I remember Goten took my hand in his and squeezed, as though the child could comfort the father, instead of the other way around. I remember almost breaking my promise to ChiChi and succumbing to tears at the thought. Gohan stood, stock-still and stiff, expressionless, the entire time. I don't remember if I was proud or disturbed by this, but I do remember that we both said absolutely nothing to each other that day. Why, I haven't a clue, even now.

He was there. Vegeta had come to my wife's funeral. It confuses me now as it confused me then that he'd show up to something that didn't involve either his pride or some form of violence. Without even being asked, without being invited. After the ceremony, he gave me a brief nod of what might have been either regret or comfort and turned on his heel to leave. I remember a bizarre urge to grab him by the arm and sob uncontrollably into his shoulder. But I did no such thing, and he walked away, tail flicking indifferently.

It was _then_ that I discovered the true meaning of love; the brutality of it.

I thought I had loved ChiChi in any way I could, but I'd never seen this crueler, harsher side to the four-letter word that still makes me uncomfortable to say out loud. I had never loved anyone but ChiChi in the way I was considering; and it hit me that she'd never refused my efforts to show that affection. Never once had she told me "no" when I attempted to express my feelings that even now, I don't fully understand.

I'd never loved someone who didn't love me back. It tore me apart, realizing what had been in front of my very nose this entire time, and realizing that it could, _should,_ never be.

I realized that day that I loved Vegeta.

I still played my guitar _Ongaku_ relentlessly, hell, I even sliced open four of the fingers on my left hand for playing it _too hard_, but my song-writing was different now. It was darker, it was more twisted. I wondered if I was going insane half the time, as I scribbled down lyrics that I thought I'd never utter, as I pounded out notes on strings too flimsy to take my pain. Strings that shredded, snapped, and cut; my own instrument betraying me in its own small way. I wrote out my sorrow for the wife that abandoned me, for the family, the "friends" of mine, that didn't understand me or even pretend to care anymore. I wrote out my anger, at myself, at the world, at the man that I'd come to love and even obsess over. And one night in September, as I recall, I actually finished one of these dark, twisted songs. And somehow, Vegeta was listening on the night I decided to actually play it, just once.

It wasn't raining, per se. No, it was _screaming; _it was a screaming thunderstorm that echoed and reflected my black mood. And I decided, _hell with it_, to add my own scream to the fray.

_Ongaku_ didn't mind being wet, neither did I. Lightning ricocheted off of boiling black clouds and the wind shrieked between the buildings as I found a place to be; half-standing, half-kneeling, on a battered fire escape between to abandoned buildings. I didn't like the city, but at least this place was desolate, free of onlookers…. How wrong I was.

Tuned up and ready to go, _Ongaku _responded eagerly to the riff opening my composition. It was ragged, rough and harsh, like my breathing just then. The piercing notes reverberated off brick walls and rebounded, forming an eerie, fading echo that didn't take away from the soul-jarring music. If you could call it music. I can't explain the melody, it was too chaotic and complex, but I can explain a taste of the lyrics I wrote. This was the first verse and refrain:

"_Your eyes could peel my skin away_

_Could burn me up, and tear, and flay_

_You need no weapon, for you're the knife_

_That rends my soul asunder_

_If I weren't choking I still wouldn't breathe_

_You don't even know that you're strangling me_

_But you turn away, just throw me off_

_Falling, to Hell, but that's not what's under_

_Me…._

_Bleeding, battered, broken, if I could find my voice_

_I'd scream…._

_Someone save me, someone take me, someone end this _

_Agony._

_Someone stop me, someone hurt me, and someone,_

_Undeniably…._

_Must. Be. You. "_

TBC


	3. Part 3

**Rock Your World**

Part 3 – When It Rains, It Pours

He snuck up on my somehow. I didn't think he could, but he masked his energy completely and was three inches from my rain-slicked face before I even deigned to think of looking for him. At first I hadn't thought he'd heard, judging from the fact that he hadn't interrupted me, and that he wasn't shouting at me now. But then I looked up, and I saw the truth in his too-wide ebony eyes.

He'd heard every word, every note.

Shit. I tried to look back on my lyrics, tried to look at them as if I were an outsider, desperately searching for some word or phrase I'd used that would tell the prince who the song was about. One line from one of the last verses came rushing back:

"_The prince of the Devil, You lord over me_

_You've even awakened the Devil in me…"_

The _prince_ of the Devil…. I cursed my word choice then, wishing I had been more creative, less brash. Vegeta's expression said it all, he knew.

At first he said nothing, and I wanted to kick myself repeatedly at the horrified expression crawling across His Majesty's face. Even with his hair damp and drooping in the rain, he looked terrifying, his coal eyes blazing.

"What are you _doing?_" he demanded at last.

I remember then, I was struck dumb. The question was obviously rhetorical; it was pretty damn obvious what I was doing.

"What…what was all _that _about? Answer me, Kakarot!"

I hung my head in shame, rivulets of rainwater trickling down my face. I couldn't look at him, the man I loved and hated right then with equal passion. I'd offered him my heart, handed him my soul on a platter, and he wasn't only not interested; he was_ mortified_.

"S-sorry," I murmured at the ground ten feet below the fire escape on which I still perched, "I d-didn't… mean…for you…t-to hear…" I had never been closer to tears in my life than I was just then; my voice sounded choked, even as I attempted to chuckle nervously to diffuse the tension, it came out like a bark of pain.

"You…you honestly…" his voice cracked and I looked up at last, his eyes were like stone now, expressionless and cold, "You felt…" he seemed to shy away from what he'd been about to say and changed the sentence to a harsh question; "_You_ wrote this?"

I nodded mutely, refusing to look away from those hard, slightly confused eyes.

The next word he uttered was little more than a whisper, "Why?"

I was brave to say what I said next, in hindsight; right then I felt like the biggest idiot on Earth.

"I write what I feel, Vegeta. My lyrics don't lie,"

He gave me one last shredding glare before turning in midair and rocketing away; leaving me standing alone in the downpour. And I think, even if I didn't admit it to myself then, that my tears mixed with the rain.

TBC


	4. Part 4

**Rock Your World**

Part 4 – Silence in a World of Sound

I didn't see him again for days. Maybe it was weeks. It didn't matter; either way, to me it was a lifetime. Goten was visiting Trunks at Bulma's house at the time, Gohan was busy working, and my friends had left me to myself long ago. I think I scared them. Regardless, I was alone, and for some reason that was almost bliss; no one to judge me, no one to stare, no one to hate me. Like Vegeta hated me. I knew he did even if he didn't say it; just the look on his face was enough.

Ironically, the _one_ person I wanted to see right then, the _one_ person who could understand where I stood, was the one person I never wanted to see again: Vegeta. It was a contradiction that tormented me in those days of solitude; I simply lay in my room, staring at the ceiling, warring within myself. I did not play any of the raging music pounding in my brain; I didn't so much as utter a sound for many nameless days. I was silent, in a world of sound that crushed me from the outside.

I hated myself more in the scant hours of each night than I had in my entire long life. I beat myself up over one simple fact: I hated Vegeta, but I loved him. I hated myself for the fact that I no longer grieved for my late wife; instead I grieved for a future that could never be, with a man whose sole purpose in life was to destroy me. That hadn't changed, even with the simmering rivalry that used to stand between us little more than a memory now. I knew I should feel ashamed, that literally on the same day that my wife passed away, I could realize that all along the true meaning of a love I may never have was right in front of me; in the body of my old rival. Was my heart really so fickle? That I could throw away decades of marriage and loyalty over someone I had sworn to defeat years ago, an enemy?

The worst of it wasn't the nights that I stayed up until dawn brooding and seething about what was and what shouldn't be. The worst of it was the nights that I did get a few hours of restless sleep. My dreams on those nights were vivid, recurring visions that lingered in my mind throughout the following day. Dreams that had me jerking awake, sweating and panting with the tangibility, the _realness_ of them.

The dreams themselves disturbed me to no end. Not nightmares, mind you. These were no visions of terror and pain; if they were I could have dealt with them. No, these dreams were much worse.

I dreamt of _him_. Of his scent, his eyes, the hard, corded steel of muscle that so defined Vegeta. Lost, discordant lines from my many songs wound their way into the dream; sometimes the slurred lyrics even contradicted each other, one side singing of pleasure and love, the other screaming in rage and pain. I remember dreams of sweat-soaked bronzed skin and throaty moans of desire; some of them wrought from my own throat, some of them forged by my own, twisted imaginings. I could always feel, in these dreams, an intense heat, a burning humidity and crushing pressure, as though I were in the center of a supernova. When my eyes would snap open, away from these visions that so consumed me, I would lay awake for hours, oblivious to the coming dawn, attempting to slow my racing heart and savor the lingering sensations from the dreams at the same time. It was madness.

As I said, I don't remember how long I stayed in solitude. How long did I quarantine myself from my friends and family? I couldn't guess then, and I'm just as clueless now. Oh, Vegeta would laugh at that, of my ever admitting I was as clueless as he constantly suggests. But I was. I was the idiot he portrayed me to be; and in my days alone I would welcome that fact, that he'd ever been so right about me, even in his attempts to demoralize me, he knew what I was, who I was. And I wanted him no less because of his insults.

Bulma found me. She did her best to appear calm and polite as she knocked on my bedroom door; I should have felt violated that she didn't knock before entering my _house_, but I wasn't, not at the time, sickened as I was by my obsession. Her eyes held more shock than her audible gasp could carry. I knew I had deteriorated those past few…days? Weeks? Hardly leaving my room more than was necessary, hardly eating; I had mostly just _lay there_, not doing, not being, anything.

I snapped out of my drunken haze a few days later when I awoke with a clear mind for the first time in weeks. I remember that I was surprised to find myself at Capsule Corp., but looking back I can laugh at my ignorance; obviously Bulma had moved me when she saw my dire condition.

I remember the headache; the never ending pulse of agony that minced my skull every second that I lay awake. I even tried to hold my breath to quell the pain, but it throbbed there nonetheless, perhaps even worsening. But I didn't care. At least the dreams, and the nattering disquiet of my mind, had finally silenced.

I sat up and stretched, muscles popping along my shoulders in the pleasant pull of my own flesh against itself. I was thin, I could feel every one of my ribs and even the harsh bones of my vertebrae and hips were visible. I had all but starved myself, and I felt like I could pass out from hunger.

Stumbling down the stairs, I remember nearly staggering due to my killer headache, but I just paused, leaning on the banister, and caught my breath, sweating.

The smell of cooking food reached my hyper-sensitive nostrils before long and my stomach gave an insistent growl. Striding into the kitchen, wincing as the drop in temperature chilled my bare chest and feet, I scanned the room slowly. Bulma stood in front of the stove, flipping bacon and stirring something that smelled nothing short of heavenly. I remember thinking that the kitchen wasn't as spotless as Bulma usually kept it, and reasoning that she'd probably been worried about me in my subconscious dream-state, or whatever idiotic _mess _I'd gotten into after…. after my stunt in the thunderstorm with Vegeta, a seeming eternity ago. Speak of the Devil, I remember an electric shiver as my eyes found the prince leaning his royal elbows the table, raising his chilling eyes to meet mine and lifting one royal eyebrow skeptically. I hadn't even known he was here.

I suffered a sudden inability to speak, or even to breathe. As if my throat and lungs had just abandoned their posts or stopped dead for no reason.

Ah, but there was a reason, a very obvious, shirtless, bronze-muscled, _princely_ reason that brought a heavy swamp of sensations from my haunting dreams crashing back over me, sending heat straight to my groin.

The reason was sitting right in front of me, after all.

TBC


	5. Part 5

**Rock Your World**

Part 5 – Alone Together

Not much was said as Vegeta and I shoveled down vast quantities of food in the typical Saiyan manner. What was there to say? However, I did feel his eyes on me multiple times as I wolfed down bacon and eggs with less enthusiasm than usual. I struggled to keep my eyes on my plate; to not meet that ebony stare. I knew if I did look at him, I'd blurt out something stupid and I really wasn't in the mood to be insulted.

Bulma didn't join us in our meal, but lingered nonetheless; leaning on the counter and watching us devour everything in sight in a matter of minutes. This was the first decent meal I'd had in a long time, and yet I ate _less_ than the prince, who'd probably had three huge square meals a day during those weeks in which wasted away. The irony was not lost on me, and I heard a string of random lyrics tease my still-aching mind.

"_I suffered alone_

_You don't offer respite_

_Didn't lend me a hand…._

_Will you help me heal?_

_Help me cleanse sleepless nights?_

_Or do you demand…_

_That I bow yet again?"_

I made a mental note to add a melody to the confused words bouncing in my head, finishing off my breakfast, and made to leave the table. Vegeta stopped my escape, grabbing my wrist and forcing my eyes down to meet his. I shivered at the scrutiny in his gaze. Not angry, just…. calculating….

He didn't say anything for a while, simply scanning my face with the ebony x-rays that were his eyes. _Such beautiful eyes…_ I remember thinking absently, _the light catches on them and makes them spark with a million colors…They're not just black, those eyes…_

Eventually he released my wrist and sat back with a sigh, "You look terrible, Kakarot. You shouldn't let yourself suffer so…"

I grunted something that sounded like an agreement, a bit disappointed that his first words to me in almost a month were criticism. What did I expect? …For him to forget what I'd said… what I'd _done_, and, what, demand a spar in his usual fashion? But then the second part of his comment registered. He'd almost sounded… concerned… Hope so intense that it made my breath hitch sliced through me before I wrestled it down. _It's probably nothing, just princely concern for his last, third-class subject._

"I'll be alright," I responded with what was as close to a smile as I dared, averting my gaze.

Vegeta smirked, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes, "I should hope so, I expect you to be fit for a spar within the week, after all."

My gaze snapped back to his and I actually _did_ manage a smile, though it felt a bit tight.

"Of course," then I stood up straight and left, throwing a quick glance over my shoulder as I did.

I ate, slept, and trained mechanically all week. I said very little, but I felt immense relief as my body recovered, though my mind remained chaotic as ever. Lyrics to songs I never ended up writing danced in my head with every realization, every event that made me stop and think. And of course, the dreams returned.

I woke up drenched in a sweat, Vegeta's name on my lips, for the fifth time in a row; panting and shaking as I strained to rein in the sensations still fresh and real in my mind. Then I lay back, my breathing returning to normal as I sank back into my pillow, remembering. I could see the prince's lithe, muscular body as clearly as if he was standing in front of me; the defined widow's peak leading into his spikes of dark hair, the heavy, arched eyebrows and depthless ebony eyes, full lips, and strong chin. His corded neck, rippling shoulders and scarred chest, his cobblestone muscles leading down to the curve of his hips; even the way he smelled, like spice and fire, so very _Saiyan_. I could describe it all in vivid detail, and yet beyond that he remained an enigma. Despite my fantasies, I had no idea what he actually _felt _like; what his skin would feel like pressed against mine, what his mouth tasted like, what _all_ of him tasted like, for that matter. I licked my lips ruefully as I pictured this, letting my eyes flutter closed and allowing my imagination to wander where it would.

It had been a week since I'd woke up from my depression, since Vegeta had made me promise to spar. He held me true to my word that day; and as the sun crested into the sky, senseless violence ensued in a clearing miles away from civilization. It was refreshing, to vent out all my pent up energy on an opponent that could respond just as eagerly; could be slammed to the ground only to rocket back up with a savage grin. But I felt like something was missing as I gave and received blows that would have killed any human.

Then it hit me: he hadn't insulted me this entire time. Sure we'd spoken. He'd commented on my technique, saying things like "is that a new move?" or "I'm sure the humans won't notice that mountain is a bit smashed up," but he hadn't provoked me or teased me at all. He didn't sneer as he watched me clamber to my feet, he didn't jab at me verbally with "is that all you've got?" and "come on, Kakarot, at least _try_ not to act like a third-class idiot," and I realized that I missed the taunts. I missed the relentless assault from his lethally sharp tongue, the insults, rude though they were, reminded me who I was fighting. It didn't feel like he was _Vegeta_ if he was being polite.

We stopped five hours later, sweating and bleeding and quite out of breath. I dropped out of Super Saiyan - we'd only ascended to the first level during the spar to conserve energy – and winced as a dull ache settled in my body, no doubt the price of being dealt ruthless blows by His Highness nonstop for so long. The sun was starting to set as we flew back to Capsule Corp, silent and withdrawn, refusing to break the silence save for the thrum of energy that circled us as we flew.

I fell asleep in an instant, even forgoing dinner in favor of resting my battered body. At first my mind allowed me a moment's quiet rest, but then, of course, the dreams decided to torment me again; almost twice as intense from the recent, if violent, physical contact with the prince.

I awoke with a groan as my muscles protested. I regretted skipping dinner when my stomach gave a vicious snarl and I sat up, massaging one sore shoulder and wistfully picturing a senzu. As if in answer to my unspoken thought, my eyes found a single senzu bean on the bedside table. It hit me that, since Bulma didn't have access to Korin's stock, Vegeta must have put it there. Chewing the bean thoroughly, I sighed as it worked its magic, healing bruised muscles, broken bones and cuts with soothing gentleness.

I blinked as I noticed something near where the bean had been; folded piece of paper, rather crinkled and worn, but carefully folded so as not to harm the page itself. I unfolded it slowly. It was almost completely covered in words written in my own handwriting; the ink had bled and smudged a little, but I still made out phrases and words I remembered writing a while back. Lyrics, that's what they were. Some were even rough, primitive attempts at phrases that later became my song, "_Save Me_". I remembered writing all these after ChiChi's funeral, how had Vegeta gotten them?

The answer showed itself in a hasty note scribbled on the back in the prince's own writing.

"_I found this on the ground after our spar; it must have fallen out of your boot or something. I figured you would want it back."_

My eyes stayed on the last line for an absurd amount of time. "_I figured you would want it back"… _The Vegeta I knew would have just thrown it away, or burned it, without even thinking. I flipped the page back over and noticed something that I hadn't before. Vegeta had circled some of the lyric phrases, lines that belonged to songs I never wrote, or even attached a melody to. A few that stood out to me were:

"_I pretend not to care, but it hurts to hold up the mask", "You don't seem to see me, you just look away",_

"_I want you to notice, I want you to ask," and "I'm always alone at the end of the day"._

Another huge revelation hit me as I realized that the lines he'd circled _complimented_ each other. Hell, they even _rhymed_ flawlessly! Sure, Vegeta had scribbled out or added a few words of his own, but the gesture was nothing short of shocking. _Vegeta_ was helping me write a new song! With my own lyrics no less! Why? What did it mean? What was he trying to tell me?

_I figured you would want it back…_I made up my mind in an instant, and, without a thought, I teleported home to get my guitar.

TBC


	6. Part 6

**Rock Your World**

Part 6 – My Words, Your Words

_Ongaku_ needed to be… tuned, and such …before I even _attempted_ to write a song again. After its last use, most of the strings were burned or rusty and two had snapped completely off. I replaced all six of them just to be safe, and twisted the knobs holding them in place to tighten them appropriately. When I was satisfied, I sat cross-legged on the floor of what had once been Gohan's room – don't ask why my guitar was in there, it had been during my month of semi-insane solitude – and strummed a few times to get used to the feel of thin metal vibrating against my fingers again. Then I took out the page with the lyrics Vegeta had circled; still amazed by the unbelievable gesture, even then.

The first line was easy enough, but it was a bit longer than the other three that formed what I hoped would be the first verse of this new composition. "_I pretend not to care, but it hurts to hold up the mask_." I took out a pencil and messed with the sentence structure so that – with the help of Gohan's Thesaurus - it read "_I feign triviality, but it's a painful mask" _which meant pretty much the same thing, and still rhymed with the rest of the verse. The other three lines were relatively the same length and structure, so I took out the sheet of blank notebook paper I'd taken from Gohan's desk and wrote down the first verse, smiling despite myself.

Two hours came and went without my noticing as I strummed, scribbled, and amended with single-minded determination. Eventually I had a melody and a refrain, as well as solid verses that were medleys of the lyrics I had written over a month ago mixed with newer, more accurate words. I looked over my work and almost laughed. I had erased a hole through the paper, and there were many smudges and scuffs that spoke of my increasing frustration over the course of my writing. But I had a song.

By the time the song had actually made it into sheet music, Vegeta showed up outside. I knew it was him from his energy; and he must have come here following mine. I stood up from Gohan's desk and finished the last word with flourish, setting down my pen and stretching languorously. I was happier now than I had been since before ChiChi's death, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I cleared the flight of stairs in one jump and opened the front door before Vegeta could knock.

The prince's eyebrows rose as he took in my appearance. I noticed then that I wasn't wearing anything but a pair of dark blue gi pants, and that my hands and possibly my face were smudged with pencil graphite – one of my fingers was cut from strumming too hard.

"You knew I was here all along didn't you?" he muttered awkwardly.

"Well, yeah. I can sense energy just as well as you can, Vegeta," I replied smoothly, "Why, were you trying to sneak up on me?"

"No," Vegeta said quickly, "I just…"

"Do you want to come inside, or do you want me to come outside? Or would you rather just stand awkwardly in the doorway?" I said bluntly, smirking. The expression didn't feel at home on my face, but it sure got a reaction out of His Royal Highness.

Vegeta's mouth remained ajar for a good three seconds before he regained his poise and crossed his arms defensively.

"Did you get my… _the_…the…" he stammered, his eyes not leaving mine as he traversed the threshold and stepped inside, still searching for a word.

"…My lyrics?" I offered, "Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. It was _nice _of you to return them."

Oh, _that_ wiped the calm expression of the prince's face faster than anything I'd said thus far. I resisted an urge to laugh as he scrambled for his tact.

"I just – I ...Well…" he sputtered, obviously alarmed at being called "nice".

"And I noticed your commentary, too." I continued, leaning against the wall in the living room, one hand on propped on one hip, "Very thoughtful," I added with another smirk, it was so much fun to make His Highness squirm.

"And you …?" he prompted, shifting his stance nervously, "You used them?"

"Yep," I grinned, "But it doesn't have a title yet, I wanted to ask you first."

True enough. Also I hadn't had time to think of a title.

"You wanted to ask _me?_" the prince asked incredulously, "Why? They're _your _lyrics, I just…"

"But you gave them to me, and you circled the ones that created the first verse."

Vegeta didn't have an argument for that.

He was silent for a moment, staring at the floor, seeming to be memorizing the pattern of ChiChi's carpet.

"Can…can I…?" he began, blushing – _blushing! – _and shuffling his hands behind his back, "W-what I mean is… would you..?

"You want to hear it?" I asked, rescuing him from the apparent torture of finishing the question.

He blinked, looking up, his strong cheekbones and royal nose still painted with blush.

"Yes." He breathed; the word less than a whisper.

I felt a smile soar across my face. Progress at last! Vegeta didn't hate me, and he wanted to listen to the song he'd helped me write, even found the courage to ask, in his own way.

_Ongaku_ laid down a smooth, light rhythm and my tail all but wagged in anticipation as I watched the prince watch me, using a pick instead of my bare fingers this time to avoid cutting myself again.

My voice shook a little as I began the first verse, but it didn't betray me otherwise until I got to the refrain where I found my confidence, closing my eyes as the music washed over me.

"_At the end of the night, I've all but lost my mind_

_The sun hides for a lifetime_

_But I don't hide on my own time_

_A wish, a hope, not voiced, but true_

_I wish you were here with me_

_I feel so much saner with you."_

Vegeta was silent throughout the whole song, except for a small, appreciative noise at the end. He studied his own hands for the longest time, and eventually spoke, his voice hushed; the low rasp contrasting to the high, tinny sound of the guitar and my own, more tenor voice.

"You wrote this about me?"

I hesitated. I remembered the last song he'd overheard, and his response then had been far from pleasant.

I decided to be honest; come what may.

"Yes."

"The other one… the other song… was about me too?"

"Yes." I repeated.

Vegeta sighed and looked up, his gaze unreadable.

"I don't understand you, Kakarot; how can you play something so full of hate one day, and something so… so much sweeter another day? How can you think both such things about the same person?"

I swallowed. _That's love,_ I answered silently, but that was probably the last thing the proud prince wanted to hear.

"You're a contradictory person," I said eventually, the prince's eyebrows rose at my use of a five syllable word.

"Why? Why did you write this one in such a different voice than the other? What I mean is… the lyrics I circled were just as cruel, if spoken in the right tone; in the right situation. Why is this song so much more upbeat?"

I gave him a small smile, it was all I could manage, I was nervous as hell.

"You showed me a nicer side of you, so I wrote a nicer song," I was shocked at my nerve, amazed that Vegeta hadn't blasted me into oblivion at the first word.

"One more question," the prince said raggedly, his brow furrowed, "Did you mean everything you said? Did you really feel that way?"

"That's two questions," I pointed out, "and…" I sighed, I couldn't dig myself in any deeper than I already was, might as well be honest, "Yes. I meant every word. I said it before: my lyrics don't lie."

The prince fell silent again. I expected him to get up and leave, I half-hoped he would.

The other half of me prayed that he would stay and keep talking, it was such a novelty, even now, to get a straight, serious answer out of him with no spite.

"Your words," he said in a quiet voice.

"What about my words?" I asked, perplexed. Was he criticizing my lyric choice?

"No, no, Kakarot; '_Your Words'_ should be the name of the song." He corrected.

"Really? Why? I never mentioned that phrase,"

"Because I gave you back your own words to write it, because you wrote about me in the same way I wish I could write about you, because you took the words right out of my mouth."

I hadn't expected such an elaborate answer. "_Because you wrote about me in the same way I wish…"_

Wait, _what_?!

Realization crashed over me with the force of a sledgehammer, no, with the force of an Oozaru's stomping foot. _That_ I could say from experience.

Vegeta felt the exact same way I did. He even said I took the words right out of his mouth.

Did that mean he loved me back?

TBC


	7. Part 7

**Rock Your World**

Part 7 – Complete

"You… you cared all along, didn't you?" I gasped; still stunned with the revelation that Vegeta actually _cared_ about anything at all.

"What are you talking about, Kakarot?" His voice was blunt, emotionless. I felt my hope waver.

"…_Because you wrote about me in the same way I wish I could write about you, because_ _you took the words right out of my mouth."_

I forced myself to breathe as I remembered what he'd said not a moment ago. Suddenly _Ongaku'_s strap felt unbearably tight and chafing around my neck and shoulder.

"N-nothing," I amended quickly, embarrassed that I'd let my emotions show, "Forget it."

"Cared about what? Explain," the prince pried, shrugging off my denial.

_Sorry for thinking you actually _cared_ about me,_ I thought wretchedly, _my mistake._

"I said forget it," my voice sounded defeated, but I forced a completely fabricated smile on my face, it almost hurt to pretend.

He glared daggers at me, coal eyes smoldering.

"Fine," he muttered, getting up to leave, "Whatever."

I watched him as he walked away, his tail slashed once through the air before curling around his waist. The motion was strangely defensive, as if he were retreating.

Something told me if he walked away now, I'd never get him back; there would be no second chance.

"Vegeta, wait!" I teleported directly into his path and he almost walked right into me, eyes downcast and cross. He stopped, tail twitching from its place around his hips.

"Don't leave, please." I implored, hooking _Ongaku'_s strap from around my neck and leaning the guitar against the wall.

"Why not?" He snapped, "What do you want from me _this _time, idiot third-class?"

The insult stung worse right then than it had on the other thousand-odd times he'd spoken it. I hung my head, shamefaced.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what? You didn't _do _anything." He grumbled.

I paused with my mouth half-open. What was I apologizing for again?

The prince made as if to push me away and I stopped his hand with my wrist before he could shove my shoulder. A gentler version of the same block I'd used in countless spars over the years, but a block nonetheless. His eyes sparked angrily again.

"I'm sorry for whatever you're mad at me for," I cast around for things that could trigger his anger, "I'm sorry for beating you in a spar I don't remember, for writing a hateful song about you a month ago, for being an _idiot third-class,_ what did I do wrong, Vegeta?"

He stopped, dropping his hand to his side, and just _looked_ at me. There was something about his intense gaze that made me self-conscious.

"You asked me if I 'cared all along'," he began.

"I'm sorry for that too!" I interrupted in a rush, was that what had made the prince so mad? That I assumed he had feelings? Didn't he?

No, that wasn't it; he seemed disconcerted that I assumed he had feelings for _me_.

I guess that made sense.

"Don't interrupt me, Kakarot," Vegeta continued, "Did you mean to ask if I cared about _you_?"

Oh gods, he read me like a book, how did he do that?

I guess my face said it all because he went on.

"You meant to ask if I… had _feelings_ for you?" his tail coiled a little tighter around his waist as he spoke, his eyes never leaving me.

Slightly ashamed, I nodded. _We were getting along so well a second ago, now he's going to hate me again…_

"I do," I almost didn't hear the two words he whispered, and even when they registered, I still didn't believe them.

"What?"

"I said I _do_, Kakarot," he hissed, spitting out the words, "I always have."

I stared, dumbstruck. Of all the things he could have said…

"You wha-?" I began, but he cut me off by capturing my lips in a tentative kiss, giving me enough time to move away if I chose to.

_As if!_

I closed my eyes. He tasted even better than I dreamed of, indescribably amazing, like velvet and fire, like power and energy, like everything that made Vegeta who he was. I was helpless to resist, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I could only respond in the only way I knew how; by pressing my lips against his and deepening the kiss, never wanting the golden moment to end.

He broke away a mere few seconds later, but his taste still lingered on my lips, and my heartbeat refused to return to normal; it kept skipping and changing pace, sometimes seeming to stop altogether. I let my eyelids flick open and looked at him. He was watching me with something between nervousness and indecision, as if afraid I would shout at him.

"Why?" I breathed, not trusting my voice to say more than that one word, I barely trusted myself to remain standing.

"Because I care about you," the prince murmured, "Because I don't want to wait anymore. I want you, and if you don't want me back, just say so, so that I can stop wasting my life biding my time."

"But… I thought you were mad, I thought you hated me," I whispered, hardly daring to believe what I had just heard.

"Because of my reaction to your other song?" he raised an eyebrow, "You do realize that in the lyrics of "_Save Me"_, you never once mentioned anything but hate and pain, right? You gave me a pretty good reason to react the way I did."

"So you _were_ mad?"

"No, I was sad. I thought you were rejecting me, that _you _hated _me_."

"But then - ?"

"Then you disappeared for a month, your energy plummeted and I thought you were going to kill yourself," Vegeta continued, "I thought I was going to lose you again."

_Again?_ Oh gods, how long had he been waiting? How long had he been waiting for _me_?

"After we sparred, I found the sheet with your lyrics written on it, and I found some that drew my attention; such talented writing," I glowed under his praise, but the prince wasn't done explaining. I couldn't guess how long he'd been waiting to say all this.

"I gave it back to you, along with a senzu to help you heal, in a gesture of peace. I hoped you would forgive me for storming off before," he tail tip twitched as he spoke, "I hoped you would at least go back to being my _f-friend_," oh, he stammered on that word. I wondered if he'd ever said it in his life, he paused and took a deep breath, as if afraid of what he had to say next.

"That second song changed my original plan to win back your friendship, I wanted _you_; I couldn't hide it anymore."

"Then you liked the song?" I asked hopefully.

He chuckled, "Gods, yes. It gave me chills, just to listen to your voice, the music of your soul, washing over me."

I think I blushed, but I didn't care.

"I was confused when I tried to explain what I felt; I've never been good at explaining emotions, and I wasn't even sure what I was feeling then. I was afraid you would be angry, that you would show me that other side, show me that hate, again. So I tried to leave, I tried to escape. But then you… apologized, pleaded with me not to leave, and… I just couldn't help myself…"

I hesitated, trying to decide if the gesture was too much too soon, before leaning forward and hugging the prince, burying my face in the fiery scent of his neck and shoulder. Then he surprised me; he _purred _and hugged me back, tangling his fingers in the spikes of hair at the nape of my neck. I looked up, his eyes an inch from mine, his mouth even closer.

Our lips connected again. No words needed to be spoken, for we both felt the same; content, slightly foolish, and complete.

It had been a very long time since I'd felt complete.

TBC


	8. Part 8

**Rock Your World**

Part 8 – The Prince And I

I thought about the kiss constantly. No matter what I did, I couldn't keep my mind from returning to that one shining moment; of the prince's taste, his smell, the ragged hitch of his breath on my face.

Even when I was alone, my thoughts were of him; and it struck me many times how _little_ I knew about Vegeta. Sure, I knew his best fighting moves, I knew his strengths and weaknesses, I knew his short temper and how little it took to scratch his pride. But I didn't know anything about his life before Planet Vegeta had blown up, I didn't know his favorite food, his favorite color – though I suspected black or cobalt – or even how old he was. Some days I would just lie in the wilting autumn grass and think; something I didn't usually do until now.

It was early November, one of the last warm days of the year, and I decided to get answers to my persistent questions about the prince.

I located his energy signal and IT'd to his location. The amount of exposed, honey-bronze muscle I was greeted with startled me. Wearing nothing but black spandex shorts, the prince stood half-in, half-out of the gravity room, one foot still raised mid-step as he stared at me, a towel draped over his sweat-kissed neck. The image was nothing short of erotic.

"What do you want, Kakarot?" the question could have been a lot harsher, and I relaxed slightly. His dark eyebrows were furrowed in a quizzical look and he didn't seem angry, just confused. He set his raised foot down and crossed his arms; tail sweeping slowly.

Suddenly I had a hard time saying what I'd come to say.

"I…uh… that is… if you aren't busy, I…um…" _Very smooth_, I thought grimly, _Can't even spit out a full sentence without stammering like an idiot._

"I was wondering if, since today's likely to be the last warm day of the year," _Better_, I thought, my confidence returning, "You might… want to… go somewhere… with...with me…."

Vegeta looked like he could have laughed at the blush crawling across my face.

"Kakarot, are you asking me on a date?" he smirked, swiping the towel from around his neck and sponging his forehead.

I mumbled something I won't bother to translate; it was straight gibberish.

Then the prince actually did laugh, throwing back his head as his mirth exploded in a burst of sound that was far from unpleasant. I realized I'd never actually heard Vegeta laugh before. Chuckle evilly, sure; gloat arrogantly, absolutely; sneer, smirk, and snarl, almost every day; but I'd never heard him genuinely _laugh_ for no reason other than pleasure. It surprised me then that his laugh sounded lighter, higher, in comparison to his deeper, rasping voice. I liked it, and resolved to do anything I could to get him to make that pleasant sound again.

"Is that a no?" I asked in a quiet voice, reining in my smile.

Vegeta smirked again, "Kakarot, no one in the _universe_ has the power to resist your puppy-dog eyes, what makes you think _I'm_ any different? Sure, Kakarot. Take me somewhere. Show me a good time."

I stared. I wanted to jump for joy, but I couldn't seem to convince my body to move. Eventually I broke into a huge grin and looped my tail around the prince's.

"Well then. Get yourself dressed, Your Highness, we're going out tonight."

The sound reached us first; the deep, throbbing pulse of a bass backbeat. Then the smell hit my nostrils and I noticed a wistful smile grace Vegeta's face at the scent of cooking food and fire. We landed side by side in a grassy field that sprawled into a beach nearby, leading to the sea. People mingled on the shore, in the grass, in the water, as the sun set. Some dancing to lively music thrumming from enormous amplifiers, some playing volleyball on the sun-stained sand, some eating, chatting, laughing; some simply lying back on towels to watch the first stars wink into the sky. The beach and field were lit with woven-grass high torches that towered overhead like a Hawaiian scene. The palm trees scattered along the shore cast the tropical mood even more; and though the sun was halfway down, there was a blanket of heat draped over everything. It made even the November evening feel like a summer night.

Vegeta's gaze swept over everything before his eyes met mine.

"Interesting choice, Kakarot. A beach party?" he snickered.

"No, it's an equinox bonfire," I corrected, "A little late in the year to be celebrating the autumn equinox, but this is how the locals set off one last bang before winter sets in."

"They dance on the beach and play that weird net-game?" the prince smirked at me, showing that he was actually pleased.

"That's volleyball," I said, "And you'll see why it's called a bonfire when the sun sets completely. In the meantime, I promised to show you a good time."

"Don't make me dance, Kakarot, or I swear this first date will be your last." This time Vegeta's voice was dead-serious, I nodded, respecting the prince's boundaries.

There was enough food to serve an army of Saiyans, and that was _not_ a small feat. I think even Vegeta was impressed with the quantity as he sampled this and that, commenting now and then as we walked leisurely among the people; two aliens in a sea of humans, not quite fitting in, but welcome by silent or unaware consent.

The sun took its sweet time going down, lingering on the horizon and dying the sea and the sky the color of new blood and fire. The surf crashed as we strolled along the coastline, the waves lapping at our ankles. I felt at peace, finally content, just being allowed to bask in the presence of the prince. He even laughed again, that higher, clearer sound, when I tripped over a wedge of driftwood and fell face-first into the water; and I chased him teasingly through the surf, not relenting until he was as soaked as I was.

When at last the sun disappeared and the sky bled to a deep cobalt, the prince and I stretched out on towels that were open to anyone's use, and watched the people gather and settle into groups and pairs, chattering idly and sipping various drinks. The color of the sky reminded me why I'd offered to take Vegeta out in the first place.

"Vegeta, what's your favorite color?" I asked abruptly.

He looked at me with amused disdain.

"Why do I need a favorite? I honestly don't care what color _anything_ is, so long as it's useful."

I almost laughed out loud at his reasoning. It was just so… _Vegeta_.

"What if you had to pick a favorite?"

"Definitely not the color of your shirt," he smirked. I glanced down at my T-shirt. It was a bright, tangerine orange. It occurred to me that I wore orange a lot, even with jeans instead of a gi.

The prince then actually seemed to consider the question, and I found a new respect for his patience.

"I'd have to say… the color of the sun,"

"Yellow?" I asked, surprised, I'd expected something dark, like the prince's attire; he'd worn a black sleeveless shirt and denim jeans with a hole to allow his tail its freedom.

"No. Not yellow. Yellow is nauseating."

I couldn't help myself, the look of disgust on his face was so genuine that I collapsed in a fit of giggles, tail thrashing as I subsided into slower laughs, catching my breath.

"I meant the color of the sun when it set tonight: fiery, golden and orange; glowing from within and painting everything with a thousand hues of red and violet," his gaze drifted as he spoke and he just sat there for a moment, lost in thought. Then he seemed to realize what he's said and sat up straighter, dusting sand off his shirt with an embarrassed look on his face.

I snapped back to awareness, I'd been lost in the prince's eyes, in his words spun from a rough, baritone voice and brilliant mind. I realized my mouth was slightly ajar and closed it quickly.

"That was beautiful," I murmured eventually, meeting his gaze honestly, "I didn't expect that to be your answer, I thought it'd be black or dark blue."

"What about you, Kakarot? What's your 'favorite' color? Surely not orange," he smiled as he spoke, and I realized he was serious.

"Green," I said steadily, without hesitating, "I like dark, rich green like the trees."

"Why?" Vegeta asked sincerely.

"It's calming, it reminds me of everything on this planet and every other planet in the universe that breathes and grows and _lives_." I realized I had all but waxed poetic, just like Vegeta had, and blushed.

We were silent for a while, watching the people around us with the detached air of being another race. Vegeta's sharp intake of breath drew my attention and I followed his gaze to the center of the beach where a column of wood and dried grass had been torched, dousing everything around it in a wave of heat and light.

"_That's_ why it's called an equinox bonfire," I murmured in his ear, smiling at his avid expression. Seeming unconscious of what he was doing, he leaned back into my arms and I embraced him gently, stroking his arms with my tail.

He lay this way for a while, watching the flames lick at the column in hypnotic tongues of fire.

"Thanks for this, Kakarot," he said quietly, "For taking me out with you,"

"My pleasure," I purred, coiling my tail around his shoulder and bicep lightly.

The moon was halfway into the sky by the time the prince fell asleep in my arms and I teleported him home.

TBC


	9. Part 9

**Rock Your World**

Part 9 – Coffee, With A Side of Confusion

He wasn't there when I woke up. It took me a second to realize that I was in Capsule Corp again; sprawled on Bulma's wide, red couch. I must have fallen asleep after taking Vegeta home. The slightly disturbed blankets next to me suggested that he'd recently gotten up…. And that we'd been _sleeping _side by side; a fact that sent my skin tingling. I still had a hard time believing any of this was real, some part of my mind insisted that I was still in an insane depression of longing and all of this was a dream. I kept trying to harden my heart and not get too involved with this dream, afraid of the pain I would wake up to when it finally ended. When what was surely just a fantasy would be ripped away again.

I sat up and stretched. Not surprisingly, I'd fallen asleep in my clothes, and my legs stung where the seams of my jeans had dug into them in my sleep. I yawned, massaging a kink out of the end of my tail, smoothing the black fur absently.

"Sleep well?" a voice asked from across the room. I jumped, startled, and looked up to see Bulma leaning against the doorframe, a not-quite smile on her face. I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, but if she was, she was damn good at it.

"Uh, yes?" I responded, bringing a hand to the back of my head nervously. It was a habit I really only gave in to around other people, and they seemed to relax whenever I did. I'm not entirely sure why…

"Vegeta just left," she continued as if I hadn't spoken. She didn't seem to be upset, but her tone was brusque. _I wonder if I'll _ever_ really understand people…_ I thought, _Even after almost half a century living as one of them, they confuse me, and their "dropped hints" drive me in circles…_

"I asked him where he'd been all day and he said he was training, which is normal I guess," Bulma went on, crossing the room and sitting in an armchair to sip her coffee, "But then he added that he spent the evening with you," she raised an eyebrow, a silent demand for explanation.

"Uh, yeah, he did." I mumbled, toying with my own tail distractedly, it wanted to wrap itself around my waist in a defensive pose, but I held it still, "We went to the beach for the equinox bonfire…"

"Why?" Bulma interrupted.

"Because it's going to be winter soon," I said, casting around for a legit explanation, "And I wanted to enjoy the warmth before the cold set in. I asked if he wanted to go and he…"

"And he agreed?" she seemed surprised, "Well… I guess you Saiyans _are_ kind of partial to the heat, I noticed Vegeta always complains about the cold, said it drives him insane and that his home planet didn't have such a 'faulty axis'."

I remained silent, not wanting to sound stupid.

"What did you guys do?" she seemed genuinely interested.

"We, uh… hung out, ate, listened to the music…" …_Played in the water, asked and answered rather personal questions, we lay side-by-side under the stars then, and again on the couch just now, _I added mentally, wincing under Bulma's piercing eyes. Again, not angry, just _calculating_, I remembered using that word to describe Vegeta's eyes, and it hit me just how similar the two actually were.

Then she asked something that I had prayed she wouldn't.

"Was it a date?"

_Damn her wit,_ I cursed.

I looked at her for a long time, trying to gauge how she would react if I answered truthfully.

She gasped, "It _was _a date?"

_Shit, shit, shit, __**shit! **_I thought, tail lashing, pleading with the gods that she wouldn't start shrieking, my ears really wouldn't be able to handle it if she did.

But I couldn't lie to my oldest friend. I nodded slowly, bracing myself for the chaos.

She stared for a good five seconds, and then leaned back with an explosive sigh.

"Really?" she asked quietly, seeming… _interested_ rather than furious, "I don't even know if I can believe it; you and _Vegeta_, Goku? When did this happen?"

"I-I don't know," I answered honestly, "I guess he'd always been… waiting…"

"'Waiting'?"

"Yeah… I just didn't realize it until a few days ago, when he…" _When he kissed me. _I finished in my mind. Somehow I couldn't say it out loud; afraid if I validated it, it would become less real. Bulma's reaction still weirded me out; why wasn't she mad?

"When he…?" she pried, leaning forward a bit. I realized I had to say it, or my evasion would imply something else.

"He kissed me." I breathed, still wary about voicing it.

Bulma's eyebrows shot up immediately, almost to her hairline.

"What?" she gasped, "That's, that's… _wow._ I never would have guessed that."

She still didn't seem angry. _Why wasn't she angry?_ If it were me, I'd have been furious. If ChiChi had kissed another man the way Vegeta had kissed me I'd have IT'd to the bastard's door and blown whoever it was into oblivion. And that was what _I_ would do. I couldn't begin to imagine what someone as high-strung as _Bulma_ would do. It didn't make sense that she was so calm, if a bit surprised.

"Aren't you mad at me?" I asked finally, "I know _I'd _be mad at me," Okay, maybe that wasn't the most grammatically correct sentence ever, but I really wasn't sure how to explain my confusion.

"You…you think I should be mad at you for kissing Vegeta?" she looked at me strangely, as if I was missing something important, I couldn't imagine what.

"Well… yeah, you two are -!" I began, but she cut me off, laughing.

I felt even more confused; why was she_ laughing_? Did I say something funny?

"I forgot you were out of commission for almost a month," she said as she reined in her obvious amusement, "Goku…Vegeta and I broke up a long time ago."

I stared.

"_What?"_ I yelped as soon as I got my voice back; this was news to me. If Vegeta and Bulma weren't together now, why did Vegeta still live at Capsule Corp.? It made no sense!

"Yeah, he said he didn't want us to be together anymore, and I agreed." She said thoughtfully, "It was a pretty mutual 'divorce' if you will. We weren't really ever married, and I guess he didn't want anything else from me. To be honest, I've been kind of disappointed with _him_ too. After he died fighting Buu he's been _different_. He still plays the father role as well as he can around Trunks, but that's just because Trunks is young. He needs a father to look up to. He stays here because he's got nowhere else to go. I thought you knew; I'm sorry if I messed something up."

I blinked; that kind of made sense. Vegeta and Bulma hadn't exactly been seen together since I'd come to after my depressed withdrawal, but…

"So _that's _why." I murmured to myself. Vegeta's actions all made sense now. He said he didn't want to 'waste his life biding his time'. He had been free of Bulma for a good few weeks, and he was trying to take what he'd waited for all this time.

"So, yeah," Bulma finished quietly, "If you want him, he's yours for the taking, Goku. I support you one hundred percent. I'm happy for you."

I couldn't help myself; I beamed, leapt to my feet, and hugged her, pulling her out of her chair and almost sloshing her coffee everywhere in my enthusiasm.

Once she disentangled herself from my arms she smiled back, rubbing her chest that apparently I had hugged too hard.

"I'll take that as a big, fat 'yes'," she smirked, "Now I don't want to waste any more of your time, lover-boy; feel free to take off."

I nodded and IT'd, following the energy signal that would lead me to Vegeta.

TBC


	10. Part 10:1

**Rock Your World**

Part 10:1 - Confessions

I took a moment to blink in confusion when I rematerialized in my own house. Then suspicion set in; _why the hell is Vegeta in my house? I don't exactly bar the door shut, but still - !_

Then I noticed the room's occupants. Goten, Gohan, Trunks, and His Royal Highness himself, Vegeta, were gathered in the living room; Goten and Gohan sitting on the couch, Vegeta and Trunks standing rather awkwardly, but with a poised indifference that only royalty and semi-royalty could possess.

Gohan was speaking to the group as a whole. I noticed that he gestured a lot when he spoke, but he was keeping his voice down as if afraid to be overheard. They hadn't noticed me standing there so I decided to listen in before announcing my presence.

"…I'm beginning to wonder if Bulma's age is finally catching up with her," My eldest son muttered, eyeing Vegeta with something like distrust.

"What does the woman have to do with what you called us here for?" Vegeta growled in his usual princely manner, tail twitching with annoyance.

"I'm getting to that, it's just something she said," Gohan waved a hand dismissively as he spoke, pacifying the prince for a moment, though Vegeta continued to scowl.

"What did she say?" Goten spoke up, watching his older brother curiously.

"I was talking to her a few days ago, back when my dad was still semi-conscious in his depression thing," I noted the contempt in his voice as he spoke of me, he said '_my dad' _like it was a swear word. I hung my head a little at his scorn; I knew he was mad at me or something, even if he covered it up, but I didn't know _why_ and I couldn't fix what I didn't know.

"Anyway, she said he was all feverish and delusional; nothing new," he added with a sneer; I sincerely hoped to never see that expression on his face again, "And he kept muttering Vegeta's name in his sleep."

_Shit, _I thought wildly, _Does Gohan hate me for the dreams? Does he think I'm insane?_ I almost IT'd away - somewhere, anywhere – but Vegeta's words stopped me from budging.

"That's why you're so worked up? Because of Kakarot's depression?" he sounded as annoyed as he did before, but I detected a hint of concern that was diluted by the prince's pride.

"Partly, yes; what _was _all that about?" Gohan replied, eyebrows furrowing over brooding black eyes, "But it was Bulma's reaction that really set me off. She said when Dad was muttering in his sleep, it was in a... a _'sensual' _way,"

_Double shit._ I thought.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. I remembered then that he hadn't known about the dreams. What would he think of my obsession? Would he think I was nuts? Would he leave me?

"And then I was talking to her again yesterday and she said Vegeta and Dad had both disappeared _at the same time_. I think I put two and two together faster than she did."

"I don't understand, Gohan," Trunks put in, crossing his arms over his chest, "_Why_ is this _our_ problem?"

I swear he looked _so_ much like Vegeta when he said that.

"I think my dad and your dad are dating," Gohan said without preamble; as if Vegeta wasn't there, no less.

With that short sentence, he floored his whole audience. Goten and Trunks's eyes both got huge and they gaped like zombies; Vegeta just flinched and averted his gaze, but I could see his tail lashing nervously.

"And what business is that of _yours_?" I broke in loudly. The whole group jumped and whipped around, four sets of wide eyes locking onto mine – three black, one blue.

"Hey Dad, I didn't see you there," Gohan said sleekly, frowning as if daring me to – what? Attack him?

"You have a problem with me and Vegeta being together?" I asked lightly, feigning nonchalance; if my tail was any tighter around my waist, I think I'd lose circulation to my legs.

"So you _are_ together?" Trunks perked with interest, raising an eyebrow in an uncanny resemblance to his father.

"Yes," the whispered word wasn't mine and I turned to look at Vegeta who was still gazing out the window as if he hadn't spoken. But there was no doubt whose mouth that word came from.

"What?" Gohan whipped back around to stare at the prince.

"I said _yes_, Kakarot and I are '_together'_,"

"But-!" Trunks stammered, shocked, "But you-!"

"I don't get it," Goten piped up, "Why's everyone upset? Even you look angry, Dad."

"Trust _you_ not to understand," Trunks grumbled, "You're just a little kid."

"I already knew that my dad liked your dad," Goten continued, "Anyone could see that if they paid attention,"

It was Goten's turn to floor everyone.

"What do you - ?" Gohan sputtered.

"How long have you known?" I breathed; I hadn't thought _anyone_ had known until now.

"Since mom's funeral," Goten said soberly, "I saw this _look_ in your eye and…" he trailed off when he realized everyone was staring at him.

"Then why did you - ?" I began.

"Avoid you?" I was startled at the mature expression on my youngest son's face; the kid was what? Eight years old? Nine?

"You looked like you wanted to be alone, so I didn't bother you, I just hung out with Trunks until you felt better,"

"Goten," Trunks was shaking his head as if Goten were a particularly slow learner, "I still don't think you get it. Your dad is _dating_ my dad. That means they're _gay_."

Vegeta flinched again and I fought the urge to curl my lip at the veiled insult.

"No it doesn't," Goten said quietly.

"Do you even know what that means?" Gohan muttered, looking like he wanted to leave the room in a hurry. I didn't blame him; the atmosphere had become very awkward.

"Yeah, 'gay' means a man who likes other men, right?" Goten blushed as if he was afraid of being wrong in his definition; it occurred to me that he'd probably picked it up at school and was only defining it by the context in which it had been used, "But my dad isn't like that. He and my mom loved each other very much. It was just Vegeta as a _person_ that he liked,"

I noticed his use of past tense and wondered at it; again marveling at the child's maturity. I remembered his attempt to comfort me at ChiChi's funeral and felt a stab of pride.

"But _still_," Gohan pressed, rolling his eyes.

"I don't see what the problem is," oh, now Goten was frustrated, I could feel his energy increasing. He _truly_ didn't see what the big deal was, and he probably just wanted everyone to drop it, "So my dad likes Trunks's dad; so what? Isn't he allowed to like whoever he wants? I…" he paused and glanced at me, as if asking if he'd said too much, "I'm happy for him. I'm happy if he's happy. It's better than that horrible sad time he was in a while ago, right?"

I tried to tell him with my eyes how proud I was of him, and I think he got the message because he ducked his head embarrassedly, but not before I caught the glowing happiness that radiated from him. I reminded myself that I hadn't even _known_ Goten a year ago; and he already put this much faith in me.

It was inspiring, and it bolstered my confidence.

"Yeah, Trunks, Gohan; seriously, what's your problem?"

Trunks shot me a glare that was all daggers.

"Goten might accept his dad being _queer_," Gohan said venomously, "But that's just because he's naïve and he doesn't know any better. I've had all the weirdness I can take from you, Dad. I'm drawing the line at this."

His words hurt like a physical blow, and his refusal to meet my eyes hurt almost worse than that.

"Yeah," Trunks muttered, "I don't know why you think it's okay, Goten. 'Cause it's _not_. Personally I'm seriously considering disinheriting myself."

I noticed that Vegeta had remained silent throughout the whole exchange. I looked at him and was shocked to see his head bowed in defeat, his shoulders shaking slightly. It took me a moment to realize he was crying silently; stung worse than I was by his son's rejection. He only had _one_ son, after all.

"Trunks, you don't really think that; you're just confused," I pleaded, not wanting to see the proud prince so upset.

Trunks didn't answer, nor did he look at me again.

"Fine," I sighed dejectedly, "Gohan, I'm not asking for your approval, and you can't change my mind; I know what I want and I know what I feel. I guess I kind of deserve for you to be mad at me; I haven't been the best father, after all."

I let that sink in before continuing.

"Trunks, you're young and you need a father to look up to," I spoke quietly, gently, using Bulma's words that rang true right then, "I hope you'll open your mind a bit and accept your father's choice; and…" I swallowed my nerves as I pressed on; this would be my first time admitting it out loud, "…and learn to love him as much as I do."

Vegeta's head snapped up and he stared; tear tracks still visible on his cheeks. His expression changed from disbelief to awe slowly as he read my energy and saw how much I meant it in my eyes. I didn't think anyone had ever told him they loved him before; the thought made me want to take him in my arms and protect him from the world, which was ridiculous; he didn't need protection.

After the prince gotten a good, long look; I kneeled in front of Goten and hugged the boy.

"Thank you," I whispered in his ear.

"Anytime, Dad," I almost didn't catch his whispered reply before he gently pulled out of my grasp and I stood away.

"Now, I don't mean to by rude, but since both of you have beaten me to it; Gohan, Trunks, get the _hell_ out of my house," I caught the two of them in my glare before continuing, "…until you can learn to accept this."

They left without a word, shooting furtive, icy glances at me and Vegeta.

"Goten, shouldn't you be headed for school?" I asked gently, "It's almost nine o'clock, you'll be late."

I really didn't want him to leave on such a controversial note, but I also wanted him gone so I could talk to the prince.

"This is gonna wreck my friendship with Trunks, isn't it?" he sighed, the question was obviously rhetorical, but I answered anyway.

"Don't worry, he'll come around." I prayed that I spoke the truth; I didn't want Goten's heart to get broken by his friend hating him for _my_ choices.

Vegeta stayed, lingering, for a few hours. He said very little and just milled around aimlessly; sometimes just staring into space.

"Look," I began, stopping him as he paced, "I know you're upset about Trunks,"

"I'm not –" he protested.

"Yes, you are. You've been tenser than Mr. Satan when he has to face a _real _fight."

Despite the situation, we both smirked at the mention of the bumbling idiot, Hercule.

"I just don't want him to hate me," I barely heard the words he breathed, and even when I did hear them, I barely believed them. Vegeta never admitted weakness, never admitted that he cared about anyone, or what anyone thought.

"He doesn't _hate_ you," I tried to keep the uncertainty out of my voice, but it betrayed me by shaking a little midsentence.

"Yes he does," usually the prince would have snarled the words, but now he just sounded beaten, tired, "I _know_ he does."

I sighed; I didn't know how to help him. I didn't know what to say to comfort him; I didn't even know if he _wanted_ to be comforted. We stood in silence for a long time. It could have been mere seconds, it could have been an hour, it didn't matter. Regardless, time passed.

"I tried to tell you… before…" he murmured. I looked up. _Where is this coming from? What's he talking about?_

"At the funeral," he continued, "I didn't really want to go, but I knew _you'd_ be there, I knew you'd be upset and I… I don't know, I wanted to… I…" he broke off and I pitied him. The proud, arrogant prince always had a hard time explaining his emotions, or admitting that he had any to explain.

"You didn't say anything," I pointed out, trying to understand what he was telling me.

"I know," he sighed, tail drooping, "I tried; I _really _did. But I just couldn't get the words out; and no time seemed like… the right time…"

"Were you and Bulma still together at the time?"

"No," he muttered, "We broke up almost directly after Buu was defeated."

"Oh," _He was single all that time?_

"I tried again, a few days later," he went on, and I realized he was actually _fidgeting_, "I found your energy was unusually high; I didn't bother to… to read what emotion it was… and I flew to where you were to tell you… how I felt… but then I found you in…in the city, a-and you were…"

"…And you heard '_Save Me'_ and you thought I hated you," I finished for him, understanding suddenly. He'd been trying to tell me how he felt for over a month; maybe longer, and I'd been too selfish to notice.

_Gods, I messed up. Big time._

"Yes," he exhaled, attempting to meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry,"

"For what?"

"For making you wait so long," I extended a hand to place on his shoulder, but I wasn't sure how the prince would react if I did, and the hand just stayed there in midair for a few seconds.

"I forgive you," I _never_ thought I'd hear the word 'forgive' come from Vegeta's lips; especially not directed at me. He took the hand I'd extended and guided it to his shoulder before setting it down gently; completing the gesture.

I blinked. Vegeta was _smiling_ at me. Not smirking, not sneering, _smiling._

TBC


	11. Part 10:2

**Rock Your World**

Part 10:2 – Forgiveness

"So," I said slowly, crossing the small distance between us so that I was directly behind the prince, "While we happen to be _alone_ in my house; and since you're so _hot _and _single_ right now," I had to admire my own nerve; I'd never expected those words to leave my mouth, or even to leave the sanctity of my own mind, "Would you like to play a little game?"

In that moment, I didn't care that Gohan and Trunks didn't accept Vegeta and I being together, I didn't care that I'd beat myself up over nothing for over a month, I didn't even care that I had little or no experience in this regard; I only cared about replacing a bad memory with a good one. Enjoying this moment alone with my prince.

Vegeta stiffened as my hand trailed a gossamer, seductive path down his spine to the end of his tail, his breathing instantly became a bit heavier. I stroked the soft fur again and a tremor ran through his body as if he was having a hard time standing straight.

"What k-kind of game, Kakarot?" I latched on to the hitch in his voice like a predator pouncing on its prey, I had a sudden, carnal desire to find out what kind of sounds I could draw from the prince.

"The rules are simple," I whispered, letting him collapse on the couch, sprawled with me slightly on top of him, spidering gentle hands down his shoulders and arms, "I want to learn…" one hand slipped under the fabric of his shirt collar to touch his chest, "a little more about you… a _lot _more," I corrected as the hand slid down to his chiseled abs, "And if you let me, you'll end up with significantly less clothing than you have now…"

I didn't know where this confidence was coming from; it was cocky, bordering on careless. I didn't know whether I should question it, or back off completely and apologize for my boldness, but it suddenly occurred to me that the prince could have protested at any time, yet he let my hands continue their gentle torture.

Vegeta's breath caught again and he replied slowly, as if trying to keep hold of his tight rein of control, "I…I th-think I could learn to like… _that _game,"

I could almost read his thoughts written on his face; '_make me forget, help me forgive…'_

I leaned over him slightly, his eyes locked onto mine; questioning, hesitant, but eager. I took that and his panted words as a 'yes' and pressed my lips against his, thinking wildly that I might very well explode from the very taste, the heat. How could I play this game when I nearly combusted from sensory overload just by _kissing_ the prince? I broke away for a second to say quietly,

"Well then, my prince… let's begin."

I stole his reply by devouring his mouth, pausing to check his willingness before plunging inside with my tongue, drowning in the fire of his taste, in his soft moan of pleasure that vibrated against my lips and teeth. His tongue wrestled with mine, his teeth gnashing, almost animalistic in his ferocity, demanding more; tangling his fingers in my hair and forcing me to bend lower, to give what I willingly supplied; more sensation, more contact, more heat. He caught my lower lip between his teeth and gave it a gentle bite, grazing the soft flesh and pulling away reluctantly, his eyes meeting mine again. I studied his flushed face; lips slightly parted, hair slightly disheveled, gaze dark with desire.

"Beautiful," I whispered, cupping his cheek in my hand. He shivered at the touch, his tail wrapping around my wrist.

"Please, Kakarot," he panted, "more,"

I smirked, "You asked for it,"

I captured his willing mouth again, this time letting him explore inside my own with his teeth and tongue. His tail tightened on my wrist when my free hand found the waist of his jeans, fingers tormenting the sensitive flesh of his hips and lower abdomen. I resisted the urge to just shred the pants and throw them aside; instead gently slipping them down a notch so they rode low on the prince's thighs, my hand sliding lower to brush against his fabric-covered arousal and the wisp of exposed velvet above. Vegeta moaned and arched against my hand, his tongue still torturing my lips. I could barely keep myself breathing, let alone keep moving without shaking uncontrollably the way my muscles demanded. The scent of the prince was an aphrodisiac, and I breathed it in as if it were the only reason to keep inhaling at all. A string of song lyrics teased my mind, but I didn't allow them to fully form; I didn't have the time or desire to write a new song right now. Not with the prince sprawled beneath me like this.

"More," Vegeta groaned again, "Oh gods, _more_!" He grabbed my shoulders and pulled my body lower over his so that our chests were pressed together, his hardness grinding against my midsection. My own arousal was already aching with need, but I forced myself to take it at least remotely slow, I wanted to remember this.

However I did obey his demand; sliding his jeans all the way off and discarding the clothing. He bucked against my hand, breath hitching, as I stroked his erection gently, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck. He raised his arms over his head so that I could slip him out of his shirt and continue my path downward, kissing and licking, even nipping the sensitive skin of his collar and chest. I closed my eyes as my tongue found a nipple and he cried out suddenly, arching again into my hand. I committed every one of his sounds to memory, hoping I could later find fitting words to describe this. None came to mind now; I was a creature of sensation, only aware of my own desire and the obvious pleasure of the prince writhing below.

"Kakarrrrrot," Vegeta panted, I looked up; his expression was almost… amused.

"You've given me quite a lot of touching, don't you think?" I was amazed at how steady his voice was, I didn't think I could trust myself to speak at all, "Wouldn't you like me to give you some back?"

With that he flipped me over so that I was under him, pinning my hands between our chests, restricting much of my movement. His eyes glittered and he ripped my shirt down the middle. I gasped at the sensation of sweltering air hitting my suddenly bare chest. Vegeta smirked, leaning down and pinching one of my nipples between his teeth, circling the bud with his tongue until I thought I would pass out from his welcome torture. I had long since stopped thinking; I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, gasping like a landed fish as his tongue traced the crevices between sweat-soaked muscles. He took the waistband of my jeans in his teeth and slowly slid the clothing down, raking the side of my hip with his canines in a not-so-gentle but completely erotic action. He wasted no time destroying the pants with his fingernails; shredding the material so that they lay in ribbons around my legs. His tail feathered over my cock, teasingly, almost unbearably so. My eyelids fluttered closed, I was breathing raggedly, struggling and failing to keep from moaning aloud.

An honest-to-the-gods scream wracked my throat as he closed his lips over the tip of my erection, his tongue swirling around the head slowly. Gods, his mouth was like satin, his hands stroking my chest were like steel, and his scent, _gods_, his scent should be illegal. I was shivering, groaning and arching into his mouth as he took me to the root, sucking hard, purring, his tongue vibrating against my cock, tripling the sensory overload. Suddenly my mind went blank and I tensed, riding the peak of pleasure for a moment before I came with a cry of ecstasy. The prince swallowed with a purr, releasing my cock and looking up to gauge my reaction. I don't think I could have spoken if I _did_ have the words to describe the pleasure I had just experienced, was still experiencing over and over in my mind, the very memory teasing me back to hardness. Vegeta waited patiently for me to regain my breath – or most of it, anyway, I couldn't seem to breathe without making my heart skip – before he captured my chin in his hand and trailed his fingers up to my lips. I acknowledged his invitation and took two of the digits in my mouth, slicking them with saliva before releasing them. The prince leered and pressed his lips to mine, letting me taste myself as well as his own fiery flavor. I knew he was distracting me from what he had to do next, but I didn't care. I sucked in a breath when his slick fingers circled my entrance, gently, watching me for any sign of discomfort. I kept reminding myself that he had waited for years; for almost a decade, he'd waited for me. Otherwise I don't think I could have quite convinced myself that it was Vegeta kissing me, Vegeta stroking my chest with one hand and tracing my entrance with the other. His tail twined with mine and he purred reassuringly – I still wasn't sure how he made that sound, it was like a motor in his chest, how did he _do_ that? – before slipping one finger inside. I winced, only at the unfamiliarity, and he kissed me gently, promising with his mouth that he wouldn't hurt me. I believed him; amazing that it took me so long to believe that he meant me no harm, and after a few strokes, he slid a second finger in, thrusting a few times with both. I yelped as his fingers brushed against something sensitive, a bundle of nerves that had _never_ been touched before, deep inside. He hesitated, pausing in his rhythm to look at me; probably afraid he'd caused me pain.

"Sorry," I panted, encouraging the prince with a brief kiss, "I've just never… felt that… before… feels… _good_…"

Reassured, Vegeta resumed his efforts, coiling his tail around my arousal to stroke me in time with his movement. I swear, every time he hit that spot I stopped breathing. I had no idea _where_ he'd learned this, but I was grateful.

I almost protested as his fingers left, at the sudden emptiness, but then I felt the head of his cock press against me and I threw back my head with a groan as he seated himself to the hilt. I felt like I was burning from the inside, melting and scorching everything in me until I was just a puddle, and when he stole my breath with another kiss, I just about lost my mind. He was everywhere at once, his hands, his mouth, every inch of his skin was pressed against me, never causing anything but pleasure. He drew back so that only the head of his erection was still in me and thrust, hammering that same spot again and again, his tail stroking my arousal faster as he increased the pace. His tongue hit the roof of my mouth suddenly and he tipped back his head and howled his release, pouring himself into me. I couldn't stop myself and followed his climax with my own, my scream mingling with his as we rode the orgasm together. Then he collapsed on my chest, sucking in quick gasps of air, somehow purring at the same time, although the steady vibration was broken each time he inhaled. I lay still, panting, savoring the lingering pleasure that made everything from my fingers to the tip of my tail sing with ecstasy.

"Thank you," Vegeta whispered, "Thank you for this, Kakarot."

"Me? I… I should b-be thanking _you_," I huffed, stroking the prince's hair gently.

"You liked that?" he asked breathlessly, meeting my gaze with a smirk.

I knew he was teasing, so I played along.

"Oh, I don't know, Vegeta; it was okay, I guess…" I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at his falsely annoyed expression. I knew he didn't like my sarcasm, he said I sucked at it; couldn't keep a straight face to save my life.

He raised an eyebrow, still smirking.

"Gods, Vegeta, what do you _think_? I only just about passed out from sensory overload," I used those last two words a lot; they just described what I'd felt so perfectly, like I was feeling too much and yet it was never enough.

"Good," the prince smiled, nuzzling my neck with a sleepy purr, "Then let's get some sleep."

Truthfully, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but I didn't think it was a good idea to just fall asleep on the couch in broad daylight.

"Wouldn't you rather sleep in a real bed? After all if Goten came home from school right about now, I think we might have some explaining to do."

Exhausted or no, we both shared a hearty laugh at that.

TBC


	12. Part 11

**Rock Your World**

Chapter 11 – A Little Honesty Among Friends

The next morning I found myself sitting outside in a clearing in the woods behind my house. I sat semi-cross-legged on a tree stump, strumming _Ongaku_ idly, not even thinking about what my fingers were making the strings play. The sun was at my back, but it gave little warmth; winter was finally setting in.

"This is what you do with your free time?" a voice asked. I turned to see Piccolo hovering in the lotus position in midair, watching me with nonchalant distance in his gaze. I didn't have to respond, but it had been a long time since I'd seen the Namek, and I replied without thinking.

"Says the guy who spends his free time meditating above streams and spying on people," there was no barb to the comment and he returned my smirk, ceasing his hovering and standing up straight.

"Where was Prince Ego headed this morning?" Piccolo continued, crossing his arms casually.

"Vegeta went to go talk to Bulma about stuff,"

"'Stuff'?" there was a hint of amusement behind the echoed word when he said it.

"Yeah, he wouldn't say what," I shrugged, "Whatever, it's not important."

There was an almost unfathomable amount of knowledge in the Namek's coal-black eyes, and they did hold the information I searched for with my gaze.

"You know about us; Vegeta and me," it wasn't a question.

Piccolo nodded mutely, antennae bobbing in time with his domed head's movement.

"And you're okay with it?" I turned back to my music, fingerpicking with a distracted air of uncertainty.

I didn't need to see the second nod, his energy pulsed with approval.

"Why?" A clean, high chord responded to my gentle strumming and I smiled, secretly proud of the chance to show off in front of the Namek.

"It's about time someone made the arrogant bastard this happy," he said simply.

"Then he _is_ happy?" I didn't know if I'd ever seen the prince quote-unquote "happy", but he certainly seemed more relaxed around me. And he'd seemed pretty content last night…

"I don't think I've _ever_ seen Vegeta smile in my life, Goku. He passed me on my way here and shot me an honest-to-the-gods grin. I swear; he's got it bad."

I blinked, "Got what?" I paused in my strumming to look up perplexedly. Did he mean what I thought he did?

Piccolo's smirk widened a bit, showing some fang.

"He's completely _infatuated; _you've turned the arrogant prince into a lovesick sap. Congratulations, Goku."

My heart skipped a beat. I knew Vegeta cared, even had _feelings_ for me; but I never would have put it like _that_. I couldn't help beaming like an idiot, attempting to hide the grin by turning back to the guitar; playing what I recognized as part of the melody from a song I'd written in a dream.

When I'd gotten my traitorous expression under control, I glanced at Piccolo. He had his eyes closed and was standing still with a rather wistful smile on his face.

He blinked and opened his eyes as I stopped playing.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Just something I wrote a while back, I've never played it before," I muttered sheepishly.

"You wrote that?"

"Yeah,"

He paused awkwardly.

"I like it," he said eventually, blushing embarrassedly.

"R-really?" I wasn't sure how to take the compliment; Piccolo didn't dish out praise lightly.

"I heard what Gohan did; I'm surprised you're this cheerful after what he said," the Namek continued.

I sighed. I'd hoped the conversation wouldn't turn to my eldest son.

"I'm not, Piccolo. Really, I'm not. But I guess music is a way for me to cover up what I really feel," I realized that I really only spoke this honestly around a few people. Bulma, Vegeta and Piccolo seemed to be the only ones who could take me seriously.

"Hmm, I would think the opposite would be true." Piccolo mused.

"What?"

"I would think music would be a way to _express_ emotion, not hide it."

"Yeah, well I've hurt one too many people that way," I muttered, averting my gaze and thinking of how much of a mess I'd made with "_Save Me_".

Piccolo laughed suddenly; not mocking, just amused.

I glared at him, "Did I say something funny? If so, please tell, 'cause I don't _think_ I did."

"I'm sorry, I just wish you were like this around other people," he said simply, still smiling.

"What do you mean?" _Wish I was like what?_

"I wish you were this honest _all _the time, it's really refreshing."

"'_Refreshing_'? Hmph, depressing, more like." I grumbled.

Piccolo shook his head slowly, sighing.

"You've got so many more emotions than you let on, I just wish you'd let other people see the _real _you."

I melted under his compassion. This was the same person who'd sworn on his life to kill me multiple times; and now he was one of my closest friends. _Actually, come to think of it; just about all my friends started out as enemies._

"I bet I'd lose half my friends if I did," I smirked grimly, "I scare them enough now as it is."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he actually took the remark seriously; considering what I'd said.

"Yeah, but _you_ shouldn't worry about what other people think," he said eventually, "They're not worth that. You're worth much more than the lot of them together."

I stared. Piccolo was giving me genuine advice and compliments, without scorn or sarcasm. He didn't usually open up to people this much; I was amazed that the usually secretive Namek was being this up-front.

We were silent for a while, just _being_, without being anything for anyone.

"What about you, Goku?" Piccolo asked after a few minutes. It took me a second to realize he was changing the subject.

"What about me what?"

"Are you happy… with Vegeta? Does he make _you_ as happy as you make him?"

I chuckled shortly, more an exhalation than an actual laugh.

"Yeah, he's great." There was a lot more to that statement than I actually voiced, and I think Piccolo understood, because he nodded knowingly.

"You love him," he stated simply.

"Yeah," I repeated, glad I could finally admit it out loud.

"That's good," Piccolo smiled, "For both of you."

He turned to leave slowly.

"Thanks, Piccolo," I said to his back, "thanks for talking. It was nice of you."

He shrugged.

"A little honesty among friends is good for everyone."

TBC


	13. Part 12

**Rock Your World**

Part 12 – Questions

I was still sitting in the woods playing _Ongaku_ when Vegeta showed up. I was improvising a lighter, more acoustic-sounding version of "_Save Me_" without even noticing; but as I slipped into the familiar melody of the refrain, I stopped abruptly; realizing what I was playing.

"It sounds better that way," Vegeta said flatly.

"What did you and Bulma talk about?" I asked, standing up.

"The usual; '_stop leaving your crap all over my house you don't even really live here anymore why don't you ever take Trunks anywhere he's your son too why did you suddenly get such an angry look on your face did I say something wrong'_." He quoted. I smirked at his impression of Bulma: a ridiculously high-pitched, girly voice that spoke in breathy, run-on sentences. I wished I could record it just to play it back to her and see her face turn red.

"What about you and the Green Bean?" he asked smoothly.

"Piccolo? We just talked about… honesty," I said lamely.

Vegeta smirked, "Care to evaluate?"

"He was just saying that I wasn't open enough with people, and I told him that I'd scare most people if I was."

"You're open with me… aren't you?" I looked at him; he genuinely seemed concerned, as if he was afraid I was lying to him or something.

"Of course," I said truthfully.

He visibly relaxed, leaning against a tree and resting one foot against the trunk.

"How long were you sitting out here?" he continued.

"All morning,"

"It's not morning anymore," he pointed out. I looked at the sky; the sun was setting on the mountains; I'd been out here all day.

Which of course meant that I hadn't eaten anything.

My stomach gave an impatient growl, as if just now realizing it was empty.

Vegeta laughed, "Come on, let's get some dinner. It's my turn to take you somewhere."

I smiled. Piccolo was right; Vegeta was so much happier now that he was with me. He seemed like a totally different person.

I didn't bother to read the name of the restaurant, just followed the prince inside. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet; pretty fitting for a pair of Saiyans, but it was moderately fancy. I realized too late that _Ongaku_ was still strapped across my shoulder, hanging awkwardly across my back._Whatever_, I thought, _no big deal._

Part of the room in which the buffet was located was taken up by a huge, raised platform; almost like a stage, and there was a large black piano set up in the middle; as if live entertainment performed here often. It wasn't very crowded inside, but there were enough tables taken up to make us wait for a few minutes before we were seated. Despite being a buffet, there was an air of formality. In jeans and a T-shirt, I felt rather out of place – I guess I would be anyway with a guitar and a tail.

Vegeta, however, seemed completely at ease. I reasoned that he'd probably been to formal dinners many times; both from being a prince and from being the significant other of a rich woman like Bulma for some time. He tapped his fingers on the table for a while, simply watching me. It unnerved me, but I wasn't going to get up for food before he did, so I waited.

My stomach growled again, reminding me of my hunger.

"Hungry, Kakarot?" Vegeta smirked. He knew the answer to that, he was just taunting me.

"Maybe," I sulked. He wanted something from me, I didn't know what, but the smell of food hanging thick in the air made me impatient.

The prince chuckled, "We'll both get something to eat soon, don't worry. But first I want to ask you a few things."

"What things?" I raised an eyebrow, wary of this unfamiliar territory.

"You're mad at your son, aren't you?"

I blinked, that had come out of nowhere; what could Vegeta gain from my answer?

"I think he'd confused," I replied carefully, "I'm not mad, per se, just frustrated with him. Why?"

"Ah-ah, I ask the questions tonight, Kakarot." Vegeta reprimanded, "The longer this takes, the longer you have to wait for food."

I pouted. _This is supposed to be a date? More like a torture session. Trust the Prince of All Saiyans to come up with food torture._

"Fine, but I won't be able to think straight with the smell of cooking things. You'll probably ask me something deep and personal and I'll blurt out 'sausage!' like the idiot I am." I grumbled.

Vegeta gave me a calculating look.

"I wouldn't be as obsessed with you as I am if I thought you were an idiot, Kakarot."

That silenced me. First of all, I never thought Vegeta would use the word "obsessed" to describe what he felt for me; and second, he called me an idiot all the time.

"Now, will you answer my questions or not?"

I rolled my eyes in completely false annoyance, "Alright, fine. First Piccolo, now you; you people really seem interested in my personal life."

Vegeta chuckled, "Not so personal anymore."

I had _no idea_ what he meant by that.

"Anyway, Kakarot, back to the questions. I wanted to ask you opinion before I told the woman to give me a new Capsule house,"

"What? Why?" I interrupted. Then I shut my mouth when I realized I'd just asked two questions when he'd told me not to.

"Well, both of us are stuck living where we'd rather not for the time being," I started to protest, but he held up a hand to silence me, "I'm sure you don't want to live in your late wife's old house for the rest of your life Kakarot; too many memories, am I right?"

I hesitated before nodding silently.

"And I'm getting just about sick of the woman ordering me around her place," he continued, "So what if we got a new place, just for us?"

Gods, I loved the way he said "us".

"What about Goten?" I was about to add '_and Trunks'_ as a force of habit, but I managed to stop myself.

Vegeta shrugged, ignoring that I'd asked another question, "Your brat could either live with us, or he could stay at the woman's place. He practically lives there now, as it is."

He had a point there, I had to admit.

"Well… I don't see why not," I said eventually.

"Good. I'll demand –" he caught himself and smirked, "I mean _ask_ the woman to procure a new settlement for us. Three bedrooms, an extra-large bathroom and kitchen, plenty of yard space to spar…"

"Why three bedrooms?" I butted in, forgetting my promise not to ask questions again.

Vegeta got what was very close to a leer on his face, "In the event that the first two get destroyed by a certain pair of Saiyans I think we both know."

I was about to ask him why in the hell we would destroy a perfectly good bedroom when I caught the look in his eye and blushed.

"I don't know if I like the way your mind works, Vegeta. I'm not sure whether I should slap you or agree with your perverse sense of humor."

"Who said anything about a sense of humor? I was dead-serious in my perversion, Kakarot."

I felt the blush deepen.

"One more question before we engorge ourselves;" Vegeta continued, "After we finish what is likely to be a large meal, even by Saiyan standards, will you be able to stand long enough to play me a song?"

I stared at him.

"I guess, I haven't rehearsed any right off hand, but – " my eyes drifted to the stage in the center of the room as I spoke, and I suddenly realized what the prince was asking.

"You mean _here_? _Tonight_?" I didn't know if I could do that. My songs were all kind of personal.

"Ordinarily, I'd point out that you've just disobeyed my order for no questions for the fourth or fifth time, but you look so confused that I suppose I can relent."

"You're asking me to play you something in front of all these people?"

"That's the sixth time you've disobeyed," Vegeta smirked, "And yes, Kakarot. Unless you'd rather I make it an order?"

"I-I don't know, Vegeta. I don't know if I can –"

"You've been plucking that _lute_ or whatever you call it all day," Vegeta interrupted, "surely you've had enough practice."

"It's a Gibson electric guitar," I grumbled, "And that's not why I don't think I –"

"You would disappoint your prince?" he asked in a small voice. I stared in shock. He had jutted out his lower lip, his tail was wagging slightly and was meeting my gaze with wide pupils, almost pleadingly. If it were anyone else I would have called it cute.

"It's not very princely to beg," I pointed out.

Vegeta's expression snapped back to his usual scowl, his tail thrashed once in irritation.

"I don't _beg_; I was attempting to pull off your _puppy-dog eyes_; I presume I was unsuccessful."

I couldn't help myself; I laughed. I had just gotten a disturbing mental image of a chibi Vegeta with a puppy tail and huge, adorable eyes. It was too much.

"Fine, I give up. I'll play you something. But first, can we get something to eat? I'm starving."

The food was good; and, more importantly, there was a lot of it. After the usual Saiyan ritual of shoveling and gulping vast quantities of various chow; we sat back and relaxed, sighing contentedly at the comfortable sensation of a full stomach.

After a few minutes Vegeta pried again.

"Alright, Kakarot," he began

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you want me to play something. But how do you know they'll even let me?"

His answer surprised me, "I've been here before."

"Really? When?" Curiosity took over and I sat up straight, alert and interested.

"Years ago, with the woman."

I had _not_ expected that.

"Was it a date?"

Vegeta hesitated. I realized I didn't know much about his past relationship with Bulma; I didn't know exactly how close they'd been, if at all.

"I think _she_ wanted it to be. I, however, was….not…familiar with the concept..."

I could almost see Memory Lane reflected in his eyes, it surprised me that he would have even remembered something like that all these years. Then again, Vegeta had done nothing _but _surprise me since the day he first kissed me.

A self-aware smirk tilted his mouth upwards.

"If I had known then what I know now…" he trailed off.

"You might've acted differently? Thought of things differently?"

He sighed, but didn't answer.

A few seconds passed before the prince snapped out of his daze. He held up a hand as if he was a student in school with all the fingers but one curled down. If I hadn't known better I would have thought he was pointing at the ceiling. Almost immediately, a woman bustled over and blinked at him expectantly.

"Some live entertainment," he said simply, gesturing at me with a smirk. I realize that the hand-raising thing must have been the way to get the… waitress's attention, but I wondered at the single finger bit.

"Oh, really?" the woman fixed me with a bright smile, "You play?"

I swung _Ongaku_ around from across my back so that it was in my lap.

Vegeta got a mischievous glint in his eye, "He sings too,"

"Vegeta-!" I protested. He could make me play, but did he seriously want me to _sing_ too?

He gave me a totally fake wink and a shit-eating – but somehow still smokingly handsome - grin; "Bring it,"

I hoped I'd never hear those two words together in that way again. Especially not from Vegeta. He was teasing me, daring me; knowing that my Saiyan blood wouldn't allow me to turn down a challenge.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

My tail wouldn't stay still as I stood; it lashed nervously, twitched in annoyance, and fluffed up with the injustice of it all. The woman led me to the stage and I felt like I was walking to the gallows. I hadn't been this nervous before, ever. Not against Frieza, not against Cell, not even against_Buu_ - when the whole world actually _blew up_ - it just wasn't fair. Just because I _could_ play didn't mean I _wanted_ to in front of _people_.

Naturally, when you stand up on stage, people turn to look at you. But normally they only look at you interestedly or confusedly. I felt like every single person was accusing me, expecting me to mess up. Maybe that's what stage-fright was, the fear of being demeaned.

From the stage, the room seemed a lot bigger. There also seemed to be twice as many people and every small movement I made seemed to take conscious effort; even breathing. My eyes found Vegeta at the back of the room and he flashed me a bolstering smile that somehow wasn't mocking, despite the circumstances. I felt braver.

There was a microphone, but I didn't use it, didn't even glance at it twice. My voice projected just fine, even if it shook a little with lingering nerves.

"I wrote this for someone special," I announced, even allowing a smile to taunt the corner of my mouth.

_Ongaku _sounded twice as loud in the enlarged room, and I almost hesitated; knowing that if I messed up it would be twice as obvious. I remembered Gohan's words as he helped me get started when I first learned to play: "_Don't think about it, don't even look at the strings. You don't need to look. If you don't know where the guitar is, you're probably playing the wrong instrument."_ Strange that the words of the person I was most angry at now gave me the courage I needed right then.

I played the song Piccolo had listened to. The one he said he'd liked. It had been written in a dream, but I made it real, closing my eyes to my unwanted audience and letting the notes wash over me. It was a simple enough tune, but it was hard to get the notes in the right place, they always seemed to move too fast to savor. I'd been writing the lyrics for it all day, but I still hesitated before voicing them; more from nerves than anything else.

The timbre of my voice didn't even sound like my own. It was too confident, too rich and steady. I was sure I was going to make a mistake, but I didn't have to think.

"_There was something in your eye_

_The day that we first met_

_I thought at first_

_That it was anger_

_Anger was all you would let_

_Yourself feel_

_Maybe there was something deeper_

_The day that we first fought_

_Were you angry at me_

_Or at yourself?_

_I never really thought_

_You could feel_

_You were a familiar stranger_

_You watched me day and night_

_And through it all, you cared_

_Enough to teach me how to fight_

_How to stand_

_How to speak_

_You made me who I am_

_Right here…. Right now…Tonight."_

My ears didn't register the applause. All I could hear was my own pulse deafening me. I looked up, Vegeta was watching me with something very like the pride he always had in his heritage. He had that kind of pride… in _me_?

I stepped off the stage hurriedly, still kind of shaky and nervous, even after all that. And traversed the distance to my chair, hooking _Ongaku_ back over my shoulder and sitting down as if I'd run a mile.

I glanced at Vegeta across the table. He smiled at me, another of his genuine smiles that I so rarely got to glimpse. Then he leaned across the space between us and brushed his lips against my cheek.

"That was amazing," he whispered.

"It was all for you," I whispered back, "You know that I love you, right?"

He sat back and smiled again. _Twice in four seconds_!

"Of course, it shows in everything you do, everything you say."

He was silent for all of three seconds before he added,

"Love you, too."

TBC


	14. Part 13

**Rock Your World**

Part 13 – Words Are Weapons

Amazingly, even after the incredible fact that Vegeta had admitted he could love – that he felt that depth of emotion for _me_ – even after he'd smiled four times in one day – which, if I hadn't been there to see it, I would have said was impossible; even after _all that_, absolutely _nothing_ of interest happened for a whole week following Vegeta and my second date. I ate, I slept, I played guitar, I pestered and teased Vegeta relentlessly – and got teased in return, I picked Goten up from school every day, but other than that; the week was completely uneventful.

At the end of the week, however, it snowed; which was ridiculous. It was still early November and already the temperature had dropped low enough to accommodate the fluffy white stuff that carpeted the world that day. As Goten and I flew home from his school – we were still living at ChiChi's place until Vegeta could wheedle a Capsule house from Bulma – he happily melted the snowflakes on his tongue, giggling, rolling through the air; and reminding me that he was still a young child. A young child that not only accepted, supported and _understood_ his father's choices, but stood up for him; even defended him against his own older brother and best friend. It was an almost inconceivable display of loyalty and love, and I found myself writing lyrics for that as I joined my youngest son in the glorious act of eating snowflakes in midair –if you haven't tried that at least once, you seriously ought to rethink your life.

And then, right then and there, that happy moment was shattered as Gohan appeared out of nowhere; standing in the air, arms crossed, short black hair whipping terrifyingly around him in the snow-heavy wind, eyes narrowed coldly.

_Oh, come on,_ I thought exasperatedly, _Am I not allowed to be happy for two seconds?_

Goten stopped mid-somersault and stared at Gohan, confusion and anger warring it out on his little face.

"What do you want, Gohan?" the child snapped; I felt a shiver of pride at his defiant bravery.

"Who says I want anything?" Gohan said calmly. I almost bought the nonchalance act for a moment, but I still saw the icy glint in his ebony eyes and remained wary.

"You wouldn't go out of your way to see me in a November snowstorm for no reason," I pointed out, stopping in midair as well and crossing my arms over my chest, mirroring my eldest son.

"Alright, you caught me," Gohan threw up his hands in a gesture of submission, "I came to take you back with me, Goten," I noticed that he was acting like I wasn't there; not meeting my gaze, not addressing me at all.

"Back where?" I asked warily, trying to get Gohan to make eye contact with me; the totally false caring-older-brother mask he was giving Goten was creeping me out – especially since it was still tinted with malice.

"Where else? I've been staying with Videl, obviously," his friendly tone didn't change, but he shot me a withering glance that made me cringe.

_He's trying to win Goten over,_ I thought helplessly, _And there's nothing I can do; I don't own Goten, he has to make his own choices._

Goten's tiny eyebrows furrowed; indecision written all over his face.

"Gohan…. are…. are you st-still mad at Dad?" he asked carefully.

"No, of course not," Gohan plastered a totally fabricated but hauntingly comforting smile on his face; the lie screaming in his eyes. I didn't know if Goten could see that his brother was lying, and I felt the urge to warn him, but I couldn't make my mouth move.

"But-" Goten stammered, "You said-"

"It doesn't matter, Goten," oh, now I could see the frustration in Gohan's eyes; he'd expected his loyal little brother to rocket into his arms with a grin and let him piggyback him home, I suppose. I almost smirked at his disappointment. At least Goten wasn't that fickle, "It's alright. Trust me,"

Goten's eyes narrowed for a second. He hesitated. Then a smile edged the corner of his mouth and he flew up to Gohan, shoulders loose, completely relaxed. _Oh, no._ I felt my heart sink. Goten had bought the charade.

Goten looked into his brother's eyes, smiling innocently, for all of three seconds. Then the grin slid off his face as if it had never been there. Gohan's eyebrows raised in confusion at the sudden look of rage on his little brother's face, and before my eyes Goten's hand – now clenched in a fist – drew back in awesome slow motion. Gohan didn't even have time to flinch.

"Trust-" - the tiny fist slammed into Gohan's jaw, the resounding _crack_ making even me wince – "-_You?!"_

Gohan's eyes widened in shock as Goten punched him again, and again; eventually the look of shock turned to a grimace of pain, but he couldn't stop the whirlwind of anger that was his little brother. Goten didn't stop shouting the entire time, punctuating each word with a blow. I'd never been prouder.

"Trust – _you?!" _he repeated, his blows becoming more vicious, and more creative, "_After_ – you - called – Dad – all – those _– horrible_ - names? After – you – crawled – away – and – hid - in – Videl's – house – like – a – _criminal_ – when – Dad – _banished – _you? After – you – _lied_ – to – me – and – tried – to - _deceive_ – me – like – the – _spineless_ – _coward _– you – are? Not – in – a – _million – years_ – you – _damn_ - _homophobic_ – _son of a_ _bitch!" _

I should have been alarmed at Goten's word choice; that a nine-year-old could use such vulgar terms so fluently; but I was frozen in shock, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. Goten was beating up his older – much taller, too – brother right in front of me. Defending me _again_! I thought I might pass out, but not before I enjoyed this immensely entertaining spectacle.

Finally, Goten let up his assault and simply stood back and watched as Gohan reeled, clutching his bleeding nose and slurring curses crazily, barely able to stay aloft. Goten then turned his back on his brother and flew towards me, eyes somehow both overflowing with and devoid of emotion at the same time, snow and Gohan's blood still tangled in his wild black spikes that were so identical to mine. He looked at me for a second, then launched forward like a rocket and hugged me around my shoulders. Despite my shock, I registered that he was sobbing, his little tears wetting my neck as he buried his face in my familiar scent.

"I love you Dad," he choked, tightening his grip.

I nodded to show I understood, hugging him close, stroking his back comfortingly up and down with my hand and "shhh"-ing soothingly.

"I know," I whispered, "Thanks, Goten."

Goten swallowed hard and looked up, his eyes still brimming with tears, yet his gaze was steady.

"You're not a bad person," he said forcefully, as if trying to convince me of something, "No matter what people say."

I couldn't even tell him how much that one statement meant to me.

Then I flew him home, still holding him to my chest. I didn't look back; leaving my firstborn son to bleed alone.

TBC


	15. Part 14

**Rock Your World**

Part 14 – Scared

I was still angry at Gohan. I was mad at him for rejecting me, for insulting me and Vegeta, and for lying and forcing Goten to turn violent. But I was also sad. I loved Gohan; and I'd never been betrayed by someone I cared about before. It had really shaken me that people could really be that cruel.

I flew in through the window of Goten's room and laid the still distraught child in his bed, murmuring soothing things and petting his hair gently as I laid his blanket over him. He looked tired, and I started to leave, to let him sleep, but he grabbed my shirt and all but dragged me back. So I lay down next to him, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Finally, I was there for him, and I felt like a better father for that.

I don't know how long I lay there; but it was darker outside and it was snowing harder. I was glad I'd closed Goten's window before lying down, it would be a pain to move him so I could get up and close it now. Goten was sleeping soundly now, his little face peaceful in repose. I had all but drifted off myself when a loud _bang_ sounded downstairs; the sound of the front door slamming. I sensed Vegeta's energy. He was irate, that much was certain, but beneath his rage he was a knot of worry and fear. Concerned and alarmed, I laid Goten back down – he'd sat bolt upright at the sound of the door slamming – and eased out of bed, leaving Goten's room and skimming down the stairs lightly; landing cat-like on the floor after the bottom step. Vegeta was standing in the middle of the living room, his pale blonde hair dusted with snow; he was clutching his forehead in his hands and simmering with fury. I was reminded all too much of the moment before he'd turned Majin a seeming eternity ago.

"Vegeta?" I said carefully. He didn't move or even seem to hear me. I advanced toward him, keeping my guard up in case he lashed out suddenly – he'd done it before – and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Vegeta, can you hear me?" Fear coursed through me at the thought of Vegeta being possessed by something. I wouldn't be able to help him if he wouldn't listen.

He exhaled explosively and met my gaze with teal eyes, breathing hard and shaking to the core, his sweat melting the snow in his hair.

"Yes," he panted.

"What happened?"

His tail – golden now – tightened around my wrist, holding my hand still on his shoulder as if afraid to let it go.

"I… I went to the woman's house…"

"To get a Capsule house for us, you said," I nodded, but the prince wasn't done.

"And…. he… T-Trunks, he was…was there…" he seemed to be having a hard time speaking, reining in his lingering anger.

It all made sense now.

"Oh," I murmured, " Did he - ?"

"He…" Vegeta gulped air before continuing, leaning into my arms as I guided him to the sofa, sitting down with his head on my shoulder – like Goten's had been a moment ago.

"Did he insult you… _us_?" I prompted.

Vegeta nodded against my neck, still shivering and sweating. I ran a hand through his hair – dark now, he'd let go of Super Saiyan – and listened as the prince told his tale.

"I was feeling calm… happy, even, when I arrived at the woman's place. I hated the snow, but I was feeling especially pleased with myself because I was going to get a place for us to live; we were going to start a life together…" I didn't rush Vegeta as he spoke, his voice was steadier now, but he was still shaking a little, "The woman and I talked for a while, mostly about nothing; how strange the weather was, whether you or I was a better kisser – her idea, not mine – things like that. Then he… Trunks… came home from school and…" he paused and took a deep breath, "… and the first words out of his mouth were 'oh look, the_ fag's _here,'" The prince started shivering again and I held him closer, waiting for him to continue.

"I started to tell him off – saying basically what your little son did; that just because you and I were together didn't make us gay – but he wasn't finished. He went on to say that he'd spoken with friends of yours; the once-bald one and Scar-face,"

"Krillin and Yamcha?" I asked for clarification, he nodded mutely before plunging on.

"And he said they thought the same thing, that you and I were nothing but – and I quote – 'a pair of _goddamn queers'_… the woman was shouting something, telling Trunks to wash his mouth out or something, but I didn't hear her. Trunks was still spewing hateful comments and suddenly I couldn't think straight. I wanted…. I wanted to _kill_ something…."

Something hot and wet landed on my shoulder. It took me a moment to realize the prince was crying silently.

"He…. he called you worthless, Kakarot, did you know that? He said… _worse_ things, but that really stood out to me…"

He didn't seem to be able to continue; he just sobbed brokenly into my shoulder for measureless time. I thought distantly that this was the second broken, sobbing person to be hurt by this mess; and the second to cry unrestrained on my shoulder while I tried desperately to comfort them.

Finally the prince's tears dried and he sat straight, hiccupping slightly. I felt something break inside; the proud Prince of All Saiyans had been reduced to this terrified, anguished creature before me. I still didn't understand why he was so scared. And there were still some things that were unclear to me…

"Then what happened? How come you were gone so long? You didn't come back until long after sunset…"

"I…I'd never been closer to m-murdering someone than I was right then. The woman must have seen the look in my eye; and… she g-got this expression on her face. _Hopeless_, that's what it was. She knew she wouldn't be…. able t-to _stop_ me,"

Realization slapped me in the face, along with a chill of dread.

"Vegeta… you… you _didn't_!"

"No," Vegeta said hurriedly, "I didn't kill anyone… but I… I _wanted_ to…"

"So, then…?"

"I fled," Vegeta murmured, "I was s-scared, afraid I would give in to the urge to kill… I blasted right out the woman's window. I think I might've hurt them with the flying shrapnel… but at least I didn't…. I didn't…"

"What did you do?" I clasped the prince's smaller hands in my own and met his darting eyes.

"I flew out over the ocean and… I blew things up. I destroyed everything around me for miles…. I don't think anyone got hurt, but I caused so much… chaos… I didn't feel like… myself…."

I reminded myself that this was the same prince who'd blown up planets and killed in cold blood shamelessly years ago. So much had changed since then.

"And then I realized what I did…. I got scared…. I still wanted to rip someone's throat out…. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to control myself…. So I went to the one person that could ever control me… the one person that was strong enough to… to stop me if I…"

"Me," I nodded. Vegeta inclined his head assent.

"And then I _got here_… and I realized that you…" he stopped and just stared at me, as if afraid I'd get angry or something if he went on, I encouraged him by squeezing his hands in mine, "…that you weren't safe… you wouldn't know to keep up your guard if I… you can be so _careless…_ I was afraid I'd…."

"You were afraid you'd hurt me," I understood now. Vegeta had such a hard time fighting down his Saiyan instinct; to kill when things upset him…. He was terrified of unleashing that violence on people he cared about, "You're not a _monster_, Vegeta; you're a person. You can stop yourself if you try hard enough… you did today…."

"But – "

We were interrupted by the sound of soft, hurried footsteps on the stairs above. Then Goten appeared, glancing around before stopping in the middle of the room and looking at Vegeta and me with something very like concern.

"I stayed upstairs until I felt Vegeta's energy stabilize," he explained, "Are you guys okay?"

Vegeta and I looked at him, then at each other, then back. At last I broke the silence.

"Geez, Goten, for all you know we could've been making out," I smirked.

Goten snickered, "I wouldn't mind,"

Vegeta started to say something, flustered, but Goten added,

"I like to make His Highness blush,"

And, right on cue, Vegeta did just that; turning a deep shade of scarlet as he stammered and grumbled and struggled to maintain his last scraps of dignity.

I laughed with Goten, an almost identical sound and motion, for a few minutes; then Vegeta smirked and joined in, adding his own high, clear laugh to the mix.

TBC


	16. Part 15

**Rock Your World**

Part 15 – To Get You To Smile

The new Capsule house wasn't bigger than ChiChi's place, but it seemed bigger for some reason. Maybe that was just because it was new. Just as Vegeta promised; there were three bedrooms, a large kitchen and bathroom, plenty of general space and whatever was needed to make a house a home.

Vegeta still seemed rather listless, however. He was quieter than usual; even for Vegeta, and he spent a lot of his time alone; or alone with me. I tried my best to make him happy, just to see him smile or get him to laugh, but my efforts usually failed. He would just look at me like I was speaking a foreign language and force an unenthusiastic response.

I don't think of myself as a violent person; despite being Saiyan and having killed before many times; but I wanted to at least slap some sense into Trunks for doing this to his father. At least make him see what a beautiful person the prince was and make him apologize and fix his mistake. But I could do no such thing.

I think Goten was trying to help too. He seemed like he was trying to fill in for Trunks; to be a son for Vegeta when his real son wasn't there. I let the child know how much I appreciated his actions almost every day; and I was rewarded almost every time with a smile and a hug.

One of those days; days when not much was going on, Goten followed me outside – it was warmer now and the snow had melted – and sat with me as I tuned up _Ongaku_ and started to play. Mostly he just watched, but sometimes he would chip in with a comment like "I liked that one", or "You got off-beat a little bit there". I felt myself relaxing, just enjoying my son's company and the mild weather; and in the back of my mind I wished I could make Vegeta relax as easily as I could myself.

No matter how many times I attempt to; no matter how hard I try and how much I try to learn…. I _cannot_, in any _way, shape, or form_, perform the simple task of cooking a meal. No way in hell. But I was willing to try in order to please Vegeta.

The consequence of my miscalculation revealed itself in the form of almost burning the new house down and failing miserably at cooking a dish as simple as noodles. Screw it. I had to try something else to get His Highness to smile. So while Goten cleaned up the mess – I'd insisted that I should fix my own mistakes but he said with a teasing shake of his head that with my luck I'd just make it worse – I paced obsessively, biting my nails – which I never do – and stressing about how I could make the prince happy again. I hated, _hated, _it when he was so down; the depressed aura he was giving off was smothering, and it almost made _me _feel depressed even if I had nothing to be upset about right then.

Sure, I could go down the same road as him and mope about how Gohan all but hated me; but I didn't think that was true. I thought he was confused; he didn't know what to think and he didn't trust Vegeta…. yet. I had to believe there was hope to turn his opinion around; otherwise I'd end up just as depressed as Vegeta and we'd never get anywhere.

Goten was a huge help. And if you didn't detect the sarcasm there; I assure you it was supposed to be detected. He paused halfway through his self-assigned cleaning duty to watch me as I brooded; chewing my fingernails down to the quick. He said gently I was being a nuisance and that I'd almost smashed a coffee mug with my thrashing tail. So he shooed me outside, saying that if I wanted to help Vegeta, I should go talk to him. He added with a smirk that he betted a kiss would cheer up His Royal Highness and I stopped suddenly; staring at him.

"Goten, I think you might accidentally be a genius," I said sincerely. So maybe Goten _did _help me after all.

I found Vegeta in the gravity chamber, which had been moved from Capsule Corp. to the new house for easier training use. _Big shocker that I'd find the prince there,_ I thought. Vegeta would be pleased to know that I'd been working on my sarcasm.

Vegeta was training with some of those weird attack drones that Bulma invented. But the robots were wearing his patience thin and he eventually gave up and flattened the lot of them with a burst of white energy. Then he noticed I was standing there. I had been leaning against the door; studying the effortless push and pull of satin-copper skin over lithe iron muscle, trying my best not to drool. Hell, even the scars that marred the prince's hide were flawless; each one told a story and painted a picture. It was art; the prince was art. _I'm becoming a mush;_ I thought with a self-aware shake of my head, _if I haven't always been one, I certainly am one now._

"Kakarot," Vegeta greeted me in the usual way, shutting off the gravity machine with a flick of his tail over the buttons.

"Hey Vegeta," I nodded, blushing to realize I had still been staring like a schoolgirl for four seconds before responding.

"What do you want?" _How come he always assumes I want something from him?_ I wondered, _Can't I just be around him without having some ulterior motive?_

"Nothing," I said quickly, "I just wanted to…." I couldn't lie to save my life, "I want to help you,"

"With what? Training?" Vegeta's tail flicked, he knew that wasn't why I was here.

"No, I want to help you… be happy…. at least for a little while…." I took a few steps closer to him, struggling to keep the desire from ringing in my voice.

"Why?" he genuinely looked like he was confused by this. Like he couldn't believe anyone would willingly help him without him demanding it of them. I sighed. _He's still so unsure, so down on himself…_

Well, I'd have to fix that.

"Why not?" I smiled, "I just don't like to see you unhappy, Vegeta. I love you," that was only the second or third time I'd said that out loud. Instantly those three little words captured the prince's attention and he blinked, waiting for me to continue.

I walked a half-circle around the prince, making him turn his head to the side in order to keep me in his sight. I took the unintended invitation and brushed my lips against the exposed side of his bared throat. He shivered a little, still watching me. Goten had just been kidding, but he'd had a point; maybe I just needed to wash away a painful memory with a better one.

And I think we _both_ knew what that entailed.

TBC


	17. Part 16

**Rock Your World**

Part 16 – Heat, Steam, Fire

I don't remember teleporting us inside; but I found myself wrapped around Vegeta's smaller form leaning against the wall in the upstairs hallway as he kissed me with enough passion to make my toes curl. He ran a hand down to my hips and started to slip it under my shirt, but I stopped him; meeting his jet eyes with my own honestly.

"No Vegeta, let me take care of _you_ this time," I murmured gently, stroking his hair.

He watched me for a few seconds, his eyes flickering with distrust for a moment. Then he sighed and twined his tail with mine.

"Okay," he whispered.

I smiled and kissed him again, taking a few steps sideways, groping for a doorknob blindly. I growled my victory into his mouth as my fingers brushed against a doorframe and we stumbled inside. Cold tile met my bare feet and I blinked. This wasn't the bedroom… my mistake. I started to guide Vegeta back out; but he just purred and barred my way casually.

"But – " I protested. This was unfamiliar territory for me; going about our… business… in the bathroom would require some creativity on my part, since I was in control here… or I _was_ until Vegeta blocked me.

Vegeta didn't explain himself, just unwrapped his tail from mine and snaked it into the shower, switching on the water, smirking.

Vegeta took a few steps back from me; looking a little unsure but attempting to cover it with a lust-filled smirk. His hands wandered to his own hair, combing through it once or twice before they travelled down his own cheekbones and throat, down his shoulders and chest, tracing his chiseled muscles; his coal eyes never leaving mine. His fingers toyed with the waistband of his spandex training shorts before peeling them off, freeing his arousal to the humid air; the steam condensing on his bronze skin and dampening his gravity-defying spikes of hair. Then he glanced at me, then at the shower, then back. His sensual smirk simply screamed _"come get it while it's hot"._

I bit my lip. How could I compete with that? The prince looked completely relaxed; arms crossed over his chest, tail curling suggestively in the air, stirring up the clouding steam. His display had achieved the intended effect; and I was hard put to keep from staring at the gloriously naked body before me and concentrate on breathing and maintaining some semblance of control – never my strong point.

My tail swished through the steam with a mind of its own, coiling around my own thigh and slinking upward, untying the drawstring of my loose gi pants and letting them fall to the floor. I shrugged and slipped out of my two shirts, raising my arms over my head as I did, enjoying the kiss of steam along my hypersensitive muscles.

Vegeta blinked once, his smirk deepening to a leer as he shamelessly took in my naked appearance with unrestrained desire heavy in his eyes. I had no idea how he could be so unperturbed and proud standing naked and aroused in a bathroom – I sure as hell felt awkward as all get out – but he managed to pull off his princely dignity even as he beckoned me with his gaze to take over from there. I _had_ said I'd take care of him this time, hadn't I?

Shaking off my inhibitions and deciding to just go with it; I grinned in a predatory manner and lunged at the prince, stealing his mouth and pressing my exposed skin against his. Vegeta's breath huffed out of his nostrils, his arms wrapping around my neck to pull me down to his height. Teasing and laughing, we tripped over each other's feet and almost collapsed into the shower; keeping our balance with instinctive tail movement. The moment of clumsiness left Vegeta with his back pinned against the tile wall under the shower head, with me leaning over him, my hands bracing against the wall. The water was hot, cascading down my back and dripping from the ends of my hair into Vegeta's face, but he didn't seem to care. He had his eyes closed and was tangling his fingers in my damp black spikes; groaning as my tongue invaded his pliant mouth; his erection grinding against mine.

I don't remember when I stopped thinking, but I remember losing myself in a haze of steam, rivers of scalding water and the addictive fire of the prince's touch and taste. An addiction was what it was; for I simply couldn't get enough of him– not for lack of trying, mind you.

"Kakarrrrrrot," Vegeta rumbled, his tail tormenting mine, though he still allowed me full control.

The purr of his voice made my knees weak and I could only moan in response, running my tongue down his jaw and neck.

"Kakarot, much as I… ah! …much as I'd _love_ for you to…t-to keep torturing me… " the prince's voice was shaky, interrupted with little pants and moans, I barely registered his words, and kept up my gentle torture just to elicit those delicious sounds from him, "I…I'd much appreciate it if you... got t-to the point…."

I smiled against his neck, "As you wish, my prince,"

Trailing kisses down his neck, I gently turned him so that his back was to my chest and he was facing the shower wall. Skating my hands down his chest, I rested my chin on his shoulder and let my tail coil around his leg, the tip teasing his arousal. Vegeta groaned and leaned back against me, straining for more contact.

One of my hands found his erection and I shivered with him as I stroked its length once, then moved on. The prince made a sound suspiciously close to a whimper his fingers writhing against the slick tile wall in front of him, frustrated at his inability to touch and taste what he so obviously wanted.

"Soon, my prince," I purred, "First, let me take care of you," I was amazed that my voice didn't shake, that I could even speak at all, and Vegeta trembled with need as my tail brushed against his arousal again. My fingers continued their massaging of the prince's spine and thighs, but torturously avoided his erection. Vegeta grit his teeth and growled desperately.

"Dammit, K-Kakarot," he choked, "Fuck me already!"

His words snapped me out of the haze and I stared at the prince. He was panting, shaking, barely able to stand. He wouldn't last much longer.

"Sorry," I soothed, "I guess I got carried away,"

Vegeta mumbled something about "third-class idiot", but the remark lacked spite and the prince seemed relieved at finally getting somewhere.

I skipped the preparation step due to the prince's impatience and, bracing myself against Vegeta's unsteady shoulders, slowly entered him. Vegeta's head tipped back and he groaned. For a moment I wondered if I'd hurt him, but there was nothing but pleasure in his voice, in the shudders that wracked his frame.

The prince was tight, and I struggled not to just slam forward, afraid of causing him pain; still the sensation was nothing short of breathtaking, and I almost came just from the sheer friction and heat. Vegeta gulped a breath as he was filled completely, the water streaming down his back an interesting combination with the heat already pulsing from his skin.

"Move," Vegeta breathed, his tail latching onto mine. I took a deep breath and drew back, almost all the way.

We both cried out as I entered him again, and again; slow, deep, languorous thrusts; gentle, almost lazy. Vegeta turned his head and I captured his lips again, tasting his fiery flavor, running my hands gently down his outstretched arms to the wrists, lacing our fingers together on the tile wall. At a needy whimper from the prince, I slowly increased the pace, keeping the thrusts gentle, non-demanding. My tail, twined with his, snaked around his erection and the dual furry appendages stroked him in time with my movement.

Vegeta was very vocal throughout the whole thing; but eventually he tensed, choking for breath and shivering, his whole body locked on the cusp of orgasm. I abandoned my restraint and hammered into him once, twice, before he positively screamed his release, spine arching as he came hard. I followed him two strokes later, and the moment seemed to last an eternity; the heat, the steam, the intense, radiating ecstasy thrumming through us both. Then he fell forward, and I caught him before he hit the wall in front of his face. We were both breathing hard, still trembling with aftershocks. I leaned forward and kissed him again, hugging his body close to mine.

Vegeta broke the kiss, shutting off the water that was starting to cool, and stepped out of the shower. I followed close behind, drying myself with ki and grabbing a towel off the rack with my tail, handing it to the prince with a little bow.

"Your Highness," I said sincerely. Vegeta stared, took the towel and dried himself off before wrapping it around his waist, still watching me as if I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had. Maybe I'd lost my mind long ago. But if losing my mind meant I got to experience something like _that_; then I'm glad I did.

I was entirely too happy as I skidded down the stairs, shrugging into a T-shirt and tying the drawstring of a pair of blue gi pants with my tail. I felt refreshed and alive, energy pulsing through my very being.

I beamed at Goten who was sprawled on the couch, reading a book. He looked up and studied my sunny expression before breaking into a grin.

"I take it you took my advice?" he said smoothly, sitting up straighter.

I nodded, still smiling.

"And it worked?"

Another nod, my tail was practically wagging.

"So Dad," Goten said casually, "Should I disinfect the bathroom before I next take a shower, or just pretend I don't know what went on in there?"

"Honestly, Goten," I snickered, "whatever makes you comfortable."

Goten nodded slowly, marking the page in his book and standing up, stretching.

"Then I'll pretend I have no clue; but let me ask you this, Dad…" he raised an eyebrow with an entirely too knowing smirk, "Will I be getting any sleep tonight?"

I thought about how vocal Vegeta had been and just laughed.

"I think you might find it difficult, Goten. That's all I'm gonna say."

TBC


	18. Part 17

**Rock Your World**

Part 17 – Stay With Me

I hadn't had a dream as vivid as I had that night in almost two months; since I'd been stuck in that semi-insane depression of solitude and I would dream of Vegeta non-stop. Well, just my luck, I was back to dreaming about him _again_.

Only this dream was _infinitely_ worse.

It started out like any of my ordinary dreams – who honestly remembers how their dreams start? – where the prince and I were sparring like usual; albeit more _intimate_ than normal. But that was to be expected; we were together in an intimate way now, right? Anyhow, we were sparring; and exchanging sensual remarks and even kissing when our lips were close enough together… yeah, a guy can dream, right?

Then the scene changed a little. We were standing a few feet apart, and the perspective of the dream was different too; viewed from above, instead of through my own eyes, so that I was watching myself and the prince talking. At first, I couldn't hear what was being said or even see our faces, but eventually it cleared and I could see Vegeta's narrow, black eyes and pronounced frown. Naturally I couldn't see my own face – isn't there some superstition if you look into your dream-self's eyes you'll cause a black hole or something?...whatever… - but I could feel my own growing sense of trepidation. Then Vegeta's voice could be heard; he was murmuring something in a monotone voice.

"Kakarot, I don't think we should be together anymore," his expression didn't change after the sentence left his lips, but you'd think he would notice if the world suddenly ended. Or ended for me.

I remember a plummeting sense of disbelief and denial that basically ripped me apart from the inside. Vegeta was leaving me? Why? What did I do wrong? Wasn't I good enough? How could I fix this? Make him want me again? A million questions zipped through my mind; and that was when I tried to convince my subconscious self that this _couldn't_ be a dream. Even nightmares couldn't be _this _brutal, could they?

I don't remember responding, but the prince continued as if I'd spoken.

"It's just not working; you and me. I don't want to see you ever again." Then he turned and left; just like that.

Then the perspective switched back to behind my own eyes; I went after him, begged him – with words I don't remember – to stay, to give me another chance. I don't know if it's possible to shed tears in a dream, but I swear even my dream-self was sobbing.

It got worse. Vegeta turned, looked at me with dead eyes like I was something unpleasant on the bottom of his royal boots, and slapped me across the cheek with a resounding _crack_. I could feel the pain even in the dream. I remember pleading, down on one knee, imploring him to forgive me for whatever I'd done wrong.

Then the worst part: he laughed. He threw back his head and laughed a harsh, cold laugh. I swear he grew at least four feet over the progress of the dream. Either that or I'd shrunk for he was towering over me.

"I am the Prince of All Saiyans; a _worthless third-class_ is less than _dirt _to me! Did you honestly think I'd want _you_?" Then he spat at me, sneering a vicious sneer, "_Pathetic_. That's what you are, Kakarot. I knew you were brainless but were you so _fucking stupid_ that you thought we actually had something? That you actually _meant _something to me? Ha!"

Then he began to fade away, still laughing mirthlessly. And in the same instant that my heart was torn to pieces, I sat bolt upright in bed, a sob, or a scream, or both, on my lips; drenched in cold sweat.

I bit my lip to keep from making a sound, glancing sideways at the prince's sleeping form. The moonlight streamed through the window, bleaching his copper skin milky blue, and I watched him sleep for measureless time, forcing my breathing to return to normal and telling myself mentally over and over: _it was just a dream, just a dream, dream, dream dream…._

I studied Vegeta's face, equable and peaceful in repose; the tiny, usually furrowed area of skin between his eyebrows relaxed rather than crumpled like during his waking hours, the fan of his dark eyelashes sweeping ever so subtly upward , the calm, lax curve of his slightly parted lips silently drawing air in and out.

_So beautiful,_ I thought absently. A shiver ran down my shoulders as I lay back down, remembering images and words from the brutal lucid dream. For it was a dream. Not a nightmare…. Not quite.

I lay awake for a while, watching the rise and fall of the prince's chest as he breathed. The soothing rhythm hitched for a moment and he stretched, rolling over in his sleep so that one arm was across my chest and his face was close to mine, buried in the juncture between my neck and shoulder. The motion was so innocent, yet so querying; as if the prince were seeking comfort. Vegeta made a small noise in his throat, somewhere between a purr and a sigh of contentment, and his slender fingers found their way across my bare chest to my hand where they unconsciously laced with mine.

I swallowed an unexpected rush of sorrow. _I love him so much. I couldn't bear it if he actually left me; I don't think I'd survive it._

Eventually, the satin contact of the prince's skin and the thrum of his purring lulled me to sleep.

I dreamt again. Almost immediately, I threw my guard up and struggled to wake before the previous dream recurred; but this dream was different. It was clearer, sharper, I could think straight. I didn't recognize any of the scenery, but it wasn't important. What _was_ important was the person standing across from me, half-hidden in shadow.

"_ChiChi?_" I whispered, hardly daring to believe it. The figure stepped into the light, proving my suspicions correct. ChiChi smiled, glowing with perfect health; a huge contrast from the gaunt, broken person whose hands I'd held as I promised to honor her dying wishes.

"Goku," she crooned, stepping towards me, her eyes bright. She hugged me around my shoulders and I breathed in her scent; almost whimpering, despite myself.

"This is a dream," I said sadly, meeting her soft onyx gaze with my own.

"Yes dear," she murmured, "But don't worry, it doesn't have to end yet."

I moved to hug her again, but she stopped me; so I settled for drinking in her appearance; noting that her hair was down for one of the first times that I'd seen, and that perched a few inches above her raven locks was the perfect ring of a pale, glowing halo.

I sniffled a little, "Even in my dreams, you're dead,"

ChiChi smiled tightly, "I'm sorry, there isn't anything you or I can do about that," she paused, "I have someone here to see you."

She stepped back into the shadows and I mourned her loss silently until she returned, leading a second, more reluctant person by the hand. The wan light glinted on ebony eyes, spikes of hair and a ginger tail.

"Vegeta?" I yelped. _How did he… unless he…? But –_

"No, Goku, he's not dead; don't worry. He's just visiting you here," ChiChi said soothingly.

"Is he real?" I mumbled, feeling foolish for asking.

"It's a dream, Goku. Who can say?" ChiChi smiled.

Vegeta watched me mutely for a few seconds.

"Kakarot-" he began, but ChiChi cut him off.

"I know about the two of you," she said carefully, letting go of Vegeta's hand, "That you're lovers,"

I blinked; no one had ever put it like that. I don't think I even considered using that word.

"Are you mad?" I asked slowly.

ChiChi laughed lightly, "Of course not, what's there to be mad about? I'm happy for you, Goku."

"But-"

"What? Did you think I expected you to stay alone your whole life? To be a lonely widower forever?"

I think I blushed or something, but it was a dream, so I'm not sure.

I sighed, "I'm sorry, ChiChi,"

"For what?" ChiChi and Vegeta asked at the same time.

"I didn't… I wasn't…I… I wish…" As usual, words failed me.

"Oh Goku," ChiChi whispered, wrapping her arms around my shoulders again, "You've grown up so much, but your heart's still a child's, isn't it? You don't have to be sorry for anything you've done or said. If anything, I should be sorry for leaving you alone," she shot a glance at Vegeta and smiled, "Though I guess you're not really alone, are you?"

I could barely believe it. This was the same woman who'd yelled and screeched and threatened horrendous torture by frying pan on almost a daily basis while alive. What had changed now that she was dead? _It's a dream, remember?_ I reminded myself.

Vegeta cleared his throat, tail twitching.

"Woman, I'd appreciate it if you let my…. uh…" he struggled for the right word, "…_partner_… go,"

ChiChi laughed and released me. I let my gaze sweep over both of them; the two people I loved more than anything in the world, and I wished that I could somehow have both of them.

Then something occurred to me.

"ChiChi, do you know about Gohan? About how he's been acting?"

Her expression said it all.

"Yes. I'm sorry, but it's not his fault, Goku. He's not a bad person, he's just confused and frustrated…"

"Will he ever accept this?" I asked, dreading the answer.

ChiChi studied me hard for a long time, saying nothing.

"Only time will tell, no one can _make _him do anything; he has to choose for himself."

Vegeta muttered something in a semi-irritated grumble.

"What was that?" ChiChi smirked.

"I said if you wanted to talk to Kakarot about this rubbish why did you drag _me_ along?"

"So Goku can see that you don't hate him,"

That shut Vegeta up. He stopped with his mouth half-open and stared for a good three seconds.

"I… I don't…" he rounded on me, almost snarling, "Kakarot, how could you _possibly _think I'd-?" then he saw my expression and stopped eyes widening as he took in my evident sorrow and pain.

Though he was protesting the other way; his voice, his eyes, and his words were almost exactly the same as when - in the other dream - he'd sneered and shouted at me for thinking we could _possibly _be together.

Vegeta took a single step towards me, his face a question mark; and I'm ashamed to say I flinched as if he'd tried to slap me.

"Kakarotto," his voice - so gentle, so hurt - and the fact that he'd used my formal name, made me look up, "I could never hate you, where on this miserable planet you call Earth did you possibly get that idea? Why are you suddenly afraid of me?"

I sighed. I had to say it one way or another; might as well do it in a dream where only he and my dead wife could hear.

"I don't want to lose you. I know someday you're just going to get tired of me, or snap out of whatever's possessing you to say and do all these nice things, or worse; I'll wake up and find out that none of this is real. In the dream I was more afraid of you walking away than of you yourself."

ChiChi's eyes were on me, there was something in them… _jealousy?_... Was she jealous of Vegeta, or me? Or both? And why?

Vegeta tried valiantly to laugh, but it came out like a cough.

"I'll never tire of you, Kakarot. I think I'd _know_ if something was possessing me – and if it is, I welcome it and would _kill_ it if it stopped possessing me – and if this wasn't real, why would I get just as much – or more – out of it as you do?"

I didn't really have a response for that.

"I used to think – back when we barely knew each other - that I only thought you were on my side because I was too in love with you to see straight; even if I didn't admit as much back then…" the prince went on, and I was amazed he was saying this much in front of ChiChi, "But now I know that I loved you so much _because_ you were on my side. When no one else would, _you_ stood by me. When everyone else wanted my head on a platter, all _you_ asked for was a little kindness. That and your gorgeous ass basically sold you to me."

ChiChi hid a laugh behind her hand. I shot her a look, but I don't think a glare works quite as well when you're grinning like a fool and blushing.

"So, Kakarot. Be reassured that I have _never_ hated you. I've only been too much of an egotistical, infatuated moron to admit how much I cared,"

I looked at ChiChi, she was smiling in a sad kind of way.

"I have to go now, the dream is over, Goku. At least you and Vegeta will have each other when you wake up, but until you join me in Otherworld, this is goodbye. I'm sorry."

I returned her smile and hugged her gently.

"Thanks, ChiChi. For everything,"

Then she faded away; as did Vegeta, but at least I'd get to see him when I awoke.

TBC


	19. Part 18

**Rock Your World**

Part 18 – Reunion

A few days passed in their usual way; nothing interesting happening until Bulma came by and announced that she was having a get-together for the end of November; before the snow set in for real. She asked if Vegeta and I wanted to come.

I considered the invitation for a long while, wondering if I even _wanted_ to see the other Z fighters – or whatever they were calling themselves now. I didn't have to answer, however, because Goten beat me to it.

"Sounds fun, Bulma," he smiled, sitting on the couch next to me and Vegeta, "I'll go if Dad goes." He looked at me expectantly and I knew there was no way I could refuse.

"Okay," I said quietly, leaning against Vegeta, suddenly nervous, "Will _everyone_ be there?"

"Kakarot, it's not like you to be antisocial," Vegeta muttered, "You haven't seen some of your friends since…." He and I shared a brief glance and I knew he'd been about to mention ChiChi's funeral, "…In a long time." he finished, wrapping his pale tail around my darker one.

"So you guys will come?" Bulma asked hopefully.

"Yeah, okay," I nodded.

Bulma smiled brightly and hugged me.

"Thanks, it's been a while since we've all been together. It doesn't always have to take a tragedy to bring you Saiyans out of hiding."

I returned her smile, albeit a little more forced than hers.

It was kind of cold, in the biting way that makes your eyes and nose sting, but not cold enough for snow. It was time to go to Bulma's get-together thing. Goten put a hand on my shoulder – though he had to stand on tiptoe, almost hovering, to reach – and Vegeta took my hand; I IT'd the three of us to Capsule Corp, where; in Bulma's spotlessly manicured lawn, a really fantastic barbecue had been set up. The smell of cooking things and charcoal was enough to make my mouth water.

We were early, but not the first ones there. Piccolo greeted us with a smirk that showed some fang and a teasingly barbed comment to Vegeta…. something about the prince turning into a mellow sap since he became my – and I quote – "boyfriend". I don't know why, but the word made everything from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes tingle pleasantly. Vegeta muttered something indignant, but only I saw the self-satisfied smirk hidden by his scorn.

Bulma's welcome was a bit more enthusiastic. She beamed and hugged everyone, even managing to entangle Vegeta in her grasp before he wriggled away with a curse and a promise for vengeance. Then she turned and beckoned over her shoulder.

"There's plenty of food, but make sure to save some for when Tien and Gohan show up, they've been sparring in the mountains all day and I'm sure they'll be hungry." The blue-haired woman chirped.

I winced at the mention of my older son, but I don't think anyone noticed.

"Who else is here?" Goten piped up, racing ahead of me to get first dibs on the impressive spread of food.

"Krillin and Eighteen just showed up with Marron a few minutes ago, I'm not sure where they are now; but they _were_ talking about you, Goku," Bulma replied, though Goten was out of hearing range.

"They were?" I remembered Vegeta mentioning that Krillin and Yamcha were against my relationship with Vegeta. I wasn't sure if I believed the lavender-haired preteen, but maybe he hadn't been lying if Krillin had been gossiping about me.

"Yeah, just about how much they missed you," the woman shot me a look that made me squirm uncomfortably. It wasn't accusing, just penetrating, and it really got under my skin, "How you're never around anymore."

I blinked, maybe Trunks _had_ been lying.

"Look out below!" A high-pitched voice squeaked. Vegeta and I looked up, then bolted in opposite directions to avoid the blonde and orange missile plummeted from above; both of us with exaggerated yelps of abject terror.

Marron, clinging to Yamcha's gi, bounced to her feet upon coming in contact with the ground and raced over to Vegeta fearlessly; talking a mile a minute about who-knows-what.

Yamcha dusted himself off, muttering about crazy toddlers and sneak attacks.

"Hey Yamcha," I waved, wondering whether I still stood in his good graces. Had I ever?

Yamcha looked up from cleaning his gi of dirt and grass stains to give me a distracted return wave and a "what's up?" that didn't sound hostile. I felt my hopes soar. If my friends were on my side, maybe I could get Gohan to accept me too.

Marron had finally stopped terrorizing Vegeta to bounce over to me, smiling.

"Hi Goku!" she squeaked.

I bent down so that I was almost at her eye-level, "Hi Marron, why did you attack Yamcha?" I said teasingly.

"'Cuz he can fly and I can't," she said as if that explained her actions perfectly.

"Hey, Goku!" a voice called. I stood up straight, looking up, my nerves returning as I saw Krillin walking over to me. The once-bald monk scooped up his daughter and tipped his head to one side, as if sizing me up or something. No, that wasn't it… he was comparing me to something, or someone.

"You're taller," he laughed, breaking into a grin and punching my arm lightly, "'Didn't think it was possible for you to get any taller, how's the weather up there?"

I gave him a huge smile that I hoped showed my relief and gratitude better than anything I could have said. Krillin was still my friend, and that meant more to me than I could ever express.

Marron tugged on her father's short black hair, giggling.

From a few feet behind me, Vegeta grumbled, still sprawled on the ground after being pounced on by the blonde child.

"No one's gonna help me up?" he growled.

I stared at him, and then burst out laughing. Marron had tied the prince's tail around his ankles and after his first attempt to stand; he'd apparently tripped and fell again.

I strode over to him, Krillin trailing behind, and untangled his tail from his legs, I couldn't resist pausing to stroke the fuzzy length once; the feel of the fur was so addictive. Krillin looked a bit uncomfortable, but covered it well with a friendly smile.

"So, Vegeta, attacked and tripped by a five-year-old, how'd that go for ya?" he smirked.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as if he was searching for spite in the remark, but he found none and simply returned the smirk, clambering to his feet.

"She didn't trip me, I fell on purpose," he muttered. Krillin and I both laughed, and Marron giggled.

Then Krillin whistled low, eyebrows rising, "Wow, he didn't threaten the planet or anyone's life at all … what did you _do_ to him, Goku?" he looked at me with mock awe.

I laid a hand on Vegeta's shoulder and steered him and my best friend to the tables piled with food.

"I had _nothing_ to do with it, he changed on his own," I said seriously.

By the time the rest of the Z fighters showed up, along with Master Roshi, Mr. Satan and Videl, a pretty big dent had been made in the refreshments; but Bulma kept the plates full and the beverages flowing, and eventually everyone had gathered and was mingling and talking.

I bumped into Gohan, quite literally; accidentally backed into him trying to escape Roshi – who, after finding out about me and Vegeta, was demanding that I explain in gushing detail _exactly_ what Saiyan sex was like – and the demi-Saiyan whirled around, immediately shooting me a venomous look and walking away. Videl, who had been standing next to him, cast a guilty "I'm sorry" glance in my direction and followed him.

I heaved a long-suffering sigh. _Is it always going to be like this with him?_ I wondered what would happen when Gohan finally had to confront me– whether he would want to talk it out or fight – and whether Trunks was as angry at Vegeta as Gohan was at me.

Trunks – speaking of, - had spent almost the entire time talking to Tien, who was just nodding silently as though listening, but not responding otherwise. The half-saiyan cornered Goten eventually and seemed to share a short, brusque conversation with him before the younger demi walked away pointedly.

Vegeta spent a lot of time hanging around me, not talking to anyone or even making eye contact, until Piccolo walked over and attempted to start conversation with the prince. Vegeta smiled gratefully and let the Namek lead him away from my side. And then I was alone - not technically; I was surrounded by people, but without the prince shadowing me I felt as if I was under a particularly bright spotlight and everyone was staring at me.

Tien approached me in time, he looked guilty, or nervous, or something; and he kept stammering when he spoke.

"Hey, uh… Goku, can I show you something?"

I scrutinized him, wondering what he was up to. He seemed friendly, but not honest. I made a mental note to watch him carefully. Trunks had spent considerable time talking to him for some reason.

"Okay," I said hesitantly.

Tien showed me something from behind his back. It was a loop of metal, like a bracelet or a handcuff; dark blue and as thick around as my finger. It looked adjustable, like it could snap onto anything from a person's wrist… to their throat. I swallowed nervously, _what is it _for, _though?_

"What is it?" I asked, running a finger around the band of metal, a spark jumped along the cobalt length, tracing my finger's movement. When I removed the digit, it felt prickly, like when your foot falls asleep.

"It's a…" Tien cut himself off, and I wondered if he'd been told to keep the object's identity secret, then he took a deep breath, "…Want me to show you?"

Warning bells sounded in my head, and I was aware of several people's eyes on me; Gohan, Trunks, Piccolo, Vegeta, Bulma….

Curiosity won out.

"Sure," I said, feigning indifference when every one of my muscles was tense.

Tien said nothing, he took my hand in his and snapped the loop around my wrist. I jumped; I'd expected him to show me with his _own_ wrist… but… I didn't have time to think further, only to gasp as I felt my ki fade.

No, _fade_ is too gentle a word. The ki – the energy I based my life around – was ripped from me, my power level taking a nosedive so quickly that it probably wouldn't have been able to be measured by a scouter.

"What the-?" I yelped, attempting to wrench the metal ring free of my wrist. It didn't budge, and I didn't have the power to destroy it.

Tien looked ashamed, he was shivering a little.

"Sorry Goku," he said softly.

"What _is_ it?" I demanded again, this time snarling rather than asking.

With my reflexes slowed by my low power, I didn't even have time to flinch before a boot collided with my neck, slamming me to the ground. I tasted blood in my mouth, and managed to look up enough to see Gohan towering over me with a sneer. Everyone stopped and stared in shock.

"It's a ki-cutting manacle," he growled, "It sucks out your power,"

Vegeta reacted instantaneously, lunging at Gohan. He was blocked by Trunks, who stopped his father with a hand.

"If you attack, _he_ pays the price," he pointed a finger at me and I felt a shiver crawl down my spine.

For the first time ever, I was completely helpless. And I vowed that if I got out of this alive, I'd punish myself a thousand times for my stupidity.

Then again, that might be a pretty big _if_.

TBC


	20. Part 19

**Rock Your World**

Part 19 – Tail Torture

I had never been so humiliated. The supposed strongest person in the universe, face down, devoid of power, in front of all my friends and family, with my son's boot grinding into my back.

I was aware that it was driving Vegeta insane to not bolt to my side and beat Gohan off of me, but he wouldn't put me in danger by getting between a possibly insane Gohan and a man with almost no ki.

"Go-han," I choked as he pressed the air out of my lungs, I felt my ribs straining, possibly cracking under the pressure, "Why a-are you…? What did I…?"

"Just payback," Gohan said sleekly, jabbing his heel into my spine, "I've been below you my entire life, it's nice to have the situation reversed; to have _you_ at _my _mercy."

"W-_what_?" I coughed, "Are you in_sane_? I never-!"

He cut me off by squashing the remaining air from my lungs and I spat blood and felt several ribs snap. Bulma cringed and looked away and Vegeta was positively shaking with rage, his hair flickering to gold and back. Goten was crying and most everyone else was staring mutely. Except Trunks. He was doing a perfect imitation of Gohan's sneer, holding Vegeta back with one hand and Piccolo with the other, swearing that if either of them budged, he'd signal Gohan, who had me pinned powerless beneath his boot. Gohan held all the cards.

"You were _never_ –" he grabbed my tail in his fist, knowing that it was my most sensitive area, I yelped and shivered as he ran the rippling appendage smoothly through his fingers until he came to the tip, I froze, " –there for me, _ever –_" he squeezed the tip of the tail on the last word, I bit back a moan of fear and pain, refusing to show weakness, " You _forced_ me to fight, never _asked_ whether I wanted to or not, you _disappeared_ after _every_ battle, whether you _died_ trying to play the hero, or just _vanished_ into space to _train_ for three years!" with every word he accented, he squeezed my tail brutally, harder each time. His references to my self-imposed defeats at the hands of Radditz and Cell, and the incident where I'd disappeared after Frieza, made me burn with shame. _I deserve this… Gohan has every right to punish me for my sins…_

"Then there was Buu," Gohan growled, loosening his grip on the tail only to grip it a little lower down, "I _finally_ got to see you after seven years, and what did you decide to do with your one day back on Earth? What did you do?" he dug his fingernails into the fur and skin, eliciting a shout of pain, "Answer me!"

"I-I…" my voice rasped, my throat burning from the abuse and the lack of air in my lungs, "I c-came back… I…."

"Wrong," Gohan said in a deadly quiet, twisting my tail viciously, I screamed, trying desperately to get away from the agony. It was like the whole thing - right up my spine to the base of my skull - was being pressed to a white-hot iron while being pinched between iron jaws, "You came back, yes, but only to _fight_ in the godsdamned Budokai tournament! You didn't come back for me, for mom, or Goten who you didn't even _know_, you came back to satisfy your_ fucking_ Saiyan bloodlust even after that's what got you killed in the first place!"

"I…" I began, sobbing now, unable to stop the tremors and whimpers that shook my frame; the world had narrowed down to me, my attacker, and the scalding pain assaulting my tail, "I…I'm s-s-sor-ry…."

"Oh you're _sorry?_" Gohan leered, wrenching the twisted knot of tail to the side, making me shriek and writhe, "Well, that's just _peachy_, now everything will be perfect, right? Gods, when did you become such an idiot? Vegeta's right, you're an absolute imbecile! And speaking of His Royal Highness, _how – could – you – fucking – fall – in –love – with – that – damn, arrogant murderer?_" He dug his heel into my back after each word, as if I were a bug that simply wouldn't die, no matter how hard you squished it.

I choked on a wash of blood that rushed into my mouth, I could barely even feel the pain anymore; which I took as a bad sign, maybe Gohan had messed up my nervous system, or maybe I was going into shock.

"But…" I strained to get the word past my savaged throat and mutilated teeth, "ChiChi…s-said…"

"That's another thing," Gohan snarled, "Three months ago; mom's funeral, everyone cried but you. Why? Didn't you _care_?" he shot a bolt of ki down the length of my tail and I screamed again, the pain returning with a vengeance; and I prayed, for the first of many times that day, for the end, "Or were you _glad_ to be rid of her? _Glad _she couldn't boss you around anymore?"

_I promised her I wouldn't cry…._ I tried to get the words out, to explain, but my ability to speak had left me; maybe I'd broken my jaw or ripped my windpipe from screaming.

"You know what I think?" Gohan said coldly, letting my tail untwist itself. It didn't matter; the agony remained, making every inch of my body feel as if it were on fire, "I think you never loved her. I think you never loved me, or Goten," he laughed mirthlessly, "Hell, you full-blooded Saiyans are little more than animals, can you even _feel_ love to begin with?"

_Yes._ I retorted, unable to wrench the word out, but it throbbed in my mind nonetheless, …_so much that I almost died from it. That I _**have**_ died _**for**_ it, more than once_.

"Oh, no, you wouldn't know about love, would you?" Gohan sneered, "After all, you've spent two months fucking that bastard Vegeta. He's probably ashamed of you right now, I know _I'd_ be. He probably doesn't like to see his fuck-buddy get his ass handed to him -"

Gohan didn't get to finish. With a roar or pure rage, Vegeta – at level two of Super Saiyan – attacked Gohan; pinning him to the ground beneath him and raising a ball of ki over his head.

"Vegeta, _**NO**__!" _I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut; the two words destroying my throat and making my head feel like it would explode.

Vegeta stopped, hand still raised, and looked over his shoulder at me with teal eyes crackling with lightning…tangible fury.

"D-don't kill him…please…m-my fau-lt… my fault…." I sobbed, amazed that I could actually form words. Gohan seemed surprised too.

"I guess I didn't give Saiyan healing proper credit," the demi growled, "By all rights, you should be dead by now,"

Vegeta snapped his gaze back to Gohan and punched him in the face.

Gohan didn't even blink.

"Let…him go," I pleaded.

"Why? So he can kill you?" Vegeta snarled, spitting out the words.

"He…could have d-done it be-fore…" I reasoned. Obviously Gohan didn't want me dead. He just needed to vent his anger. Maybe if I showed him I still loved him, he'd forgive me….

Vegeta slowly got back to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine.

"For you, Kakarot. If you hadn't asked me not to, I'd have killed him in a heartbeat."

The instant – the very _instant_ – that Vegeta's weight left Gohan, the demi-Saiyan leapt to his feet. Vegeta started to turn and walk away, and Gohan's eyes followed him. Vegeta helped me to my feet, giving me ki to help me stand.

"Senzu?" I asked. He reached in his glove and fished one out, pulling down my lower lip gently and placing the bean between my ravaged teeth.

"That's the last senzu, Kakarot. The freaky cat won't have any more until the next batch grows," Vegeta muttered. He always did this, whenever we were out, he let me know so I didn't do anything drastic until we had more. Just another small show of how much he actually cared.

When I could stand on my own, Vegeta turned back to Gohan. My gaze followed his and I froze. Gohan had a ki blast aimed at Vegeta's chest, I sensed enough power to kill.

Gohan spoke in a clipped voice, "I can't kill Dad; I won't, but I can kill _you_,"

The beam of light seemed to move in slow motion, leaving Gohan's hand and approaching the prince with deadly aim.

I didn't think. I IT'd in front of my lover and shoved him out of the blast's trajectory; but I didn't have time to get away. The energy struck my chest with the force of a freight train and I collapsed; the world around me fading to black.

The last thing I heard was Vegeta's scream.

TBC


	21. Chapter 20:1

**Rock Your World**

Part 20:1 – Vegeta

I saw the ki blast suspended in the brat's hand, saw that it was aimed at my heart, could feel the energy was enough to be fatal. I didn't have time to power up, didn't have time to run. _A prince faces his fate on his feet_. I swallowed, in what I knew would be my last moment of life. _I'm sorry, Kakarot._

A body slammed into mine, shoving me aside so that I sprawled in the dirt. I got back to my feet and looked up in time to see the white ki beam enter my lover's body, burning away muscle, skin and bone before exiting his chest. Kakarot gulped his last breath, then he collapsed with a thud, lifeless.

_No…_. _Oh, gods, _**no**….

"_NOOOOO_!" I screamed flaring back to Super Saiyan two and throwing my head back; pouring my depthless agony into my voice, into the tears that stung my eyes before leaving hot tracks down my cheeks.

Kakarot. Was. _Dead._ No, it wasn't possible. Not now that he was finally mine, after all these years I finally got to tell him I loved him and now…. It was all for nothing.

Finally I opened my eyes and looked again. Kakarot's body lay at the feet of his son, still smoldering from the singed hole through his chest. Through that pure heart that I loved more than life itself. The brat called Gohan was staring in disbelief, as if unable to comprehend what he'd done. _Imbecile,_ I thought mutinously, If _you shoot, obviously someone is going to d-die…_ I sobbed again, my face in my hands. Strangely, I felt no urge to attack the brat, only to crawl into a hole and die. Like Kakarot had died. Except I didn't deserve a death as noble as my lover's. Throwing himself into harm's way to protect the ones he loved. Noble Kakarot. Brave to the end.

I staggered to Kakarot's side, falling to my knees beside my lover and taking his bloodstained hand in mine. I heard the brat Gohan speak.

"I…I didn't… I…." his voice was choked, as if he were holding back tears, "I didn't mean to…"

_Idiot._ I thought, but my sorrow wouldn't let me voice the insult.

I ran my hand up my dead lover's wrist, my numb fingers encountering the thick blue band that was the ki-cutting manacle. The wretched thing that started this whole mess.

"It's _your_ fault," I cursed at the cuff, grabbing it with both hands and wrenching it off, throwing the mangled strips of metal over my shoulder.

"I know…" Gohan sobbed, obviously thinking I was talking to him. _As if! He's not worthy of my words. Not now…_

I took Kakarot's broken body into my arms, placing him in my lap and burying my face in his wild, silky black spikes. _I'm sorry…It should have been me… I should have died; not you, Kakarot…_

I took both his wrists in my hands, one of them scarred by that vile manacle, and pressed his hands to my chest, barely aware of what I was doing, it was as if I were trying to reassure myself that my heart still beat. Or trying to get Kakarot's lifeless fingers to feel that it did. That blood still pumped through my veins because of his sacrifice. I froze suddenly, listening, feeling... It was probably just an illusion…

_No…_ _That's impossible…_ Kakarot's wrists, trapped in my hands, were still warm. There was a pulse there, faint, but still ticking against my fingers in time with Kakarot's shuddering heart. Wait. The brat blasted Kakarot's heart, didn't he? I looked up, hardly daring to believe it. There was a hole, through the middle of Kakarot's chest, slightly off to the right….

_To the right…._

The heart was on the left side of the body.

I was hard put not to shout my joy for the world to hear. _Kakarot's alive!_ And yes, there, barely able to be felt, but it was there…. Kakarot's beautiful, warm ki signature. It had been gone, completely gone until I removed that foul ki-cutting manacle. Kakarot had been teetering on the brink of death….

"Shit," I growled. He still was. Just because he was alive didn't mean he'd _stay_ that way. Not for long. Gohan stared at me as if I'd lost my mind, but I didn't care.

Then it hit me. _Why isn't he breathing….?_

"Double shit," I cursed, grabbing Kakarot's jaw and pressing his mouth up to mine, breathing into him, trying to get his seared lungs to fill.

"What are you _doing?_" Gohan demanded, wrenching me away from Kakarot's body so that I was standing.

_No…Idiot! Please don't die…. Hold on…_

"_Imbecile_! He's not dead!" I shouted, shoving the brat away and taking Kakarot into my arms again, kissing him, breathing life back into him.

"Wha -?" Gohan stammered. I ignored him, pausing only to gulp a breath and resume my effort to revive my lover.

Finally, mercifully, Kakarot's lungs expanded on their own and he took a breath, coughing, choking and pushing me away weakly. I stood up and stared at him desperately, willing him to come back to me, to live again.

"That'll be enough to hold him until…" I muttered, "Boy!" I snapped at Gohan. He flinched visibly, "Help me fly Kakarot to the Lookout!" It was only then that I noticed that everyone was still there. The woman Bulma and Kakarot's "Z fighters" were all still gathered around, staring in evident shock at the goings-on.

_Whatever, it's not important._ _ I need to get Kakarot to the little green one so he can heal him._

I looked back at Kakarot, making sure he was still breathing. He was, albeit shallowly, instinctively. He was unconscious, but at least he was alive.

"Vegeta what -?" the woman began, walking towards me.

"Shut up!" I shouted urgently. _Can't she see I don't need a distraction right now? Idiot woman._

I hoisted Kakarot so that he was slumped over my shoulder, I felt a weak, dry breath whisper over my neck and I shivered.

"You coming, boy? Or do I have to carry him alone?" I snarled at Gohan, who seemed to snap out of a daze.

"Yes sir!" he said quickly, grabbing his father's other arm and supporting him on his own shoulder and mine.

_Sir, heh. Far cry from bastard, I guess the kid's pretty shaken up….So am I._

We took off, flying Kakarot to the Lookout where he would, surely, be able to get better.

The freaky Popo creature didn't even blink – did he ever? – when Gohan and I showed up with the mangled, unconscious Saiyan supported between us. He just ran off quickly, hopefully to find the Namek brat.

The genie, or whatever he was, returned with the little Namek in tow, speaking to the green child quickly in that breathy, creepy voice of his. I caught the words "hurt", "dead", and "Goku" – seriously, was I the _only_ one that called Kakarot by his real name? – before the little green one was led to me. Well, _us;_ but I guess I'd have to do the explaining.

"Heal first, talk later," I barked. Feeling more in my element when giving orders.

The Namek nodded and placed his little green hands on Kakarot's ruined chest. I was impatient, tapping my foot and scowling as I waited for the wound on Kakarot's chest to recede. Finally the Namek brat stepped back mumbling something like "that's all I can do."

I watched Kakarot's face breathlessly, praying that it was enough to bring him back to me. Just when I was about to give up and go blow something up, Kakarot twitched, wincing and slowly squinting open one beautiful black eye, which wandered before finding me.

"Vegeta," he breathed, relief softening his features. He let go of Gohan's shoulder and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips to mine, voluntarily this time. He tightened his grip around my shoulders, then let me go, looking at me desperately, as if I might vanish if he looked away.

I smiled, kissing him again, not caring if the Popo creature, the Namek and Kakarot's son were watching awkwardly. Kakarot was alive, and for all I cared, the entire planet's population could have been there to watch us kiss.

For a moment ago I was sure I'd never get another chance to do so.

TBC


	22. Chapter 20:2

**Rock Your World**

Part 20:2 – The Meaning of Love

I kissed Vegeta again, and again, unable to believe I was really alive again. I knew how it felt to be dead, I'd died before, twice, but instead of awakening in Otherworld, I awoke slung across the shoulders of my lover and son. I had almost passed out in shock, but Vegeta's face kept me there. Him too, but mostly his face. The love and concern in his eyes, the sorrow, the relief; it reawakened my heart to how much he truly cared about me.

Cliché it may be, but I realized I only _just now_ could truly fathom the meaning of love. I'd died for Vegeta. Not for anyone else this time, not for the world's safety like before. For him. And he'd believed in me, loved me enough to stop at nothing to bring me back. That was love. Being able, and willing, to lose, and give, everything for _one person_. And that one person for me was Vegeta. Maybe it always had been.

Gohan had been wrong; I _had_ loved ChiChi, as much as I physically could. I gave her what I could give, all I was able to give. I just loved Vegeta on a different level. We were the same. He understood me, I understood him. We were like two sides of the same coin. Sometimes I forgot where I ended and he began. Maybe fusing into one being had something to do with that.

Shoving the thoughts aside, I stopped my assault on the prince's mouth and simply watched him again. Marveling at his beauty, looking at him through new eyes. I believe there's a word for this. Epiphany. Seeing everything in a new light, changing who you are through experience and revelation. I felt as if I'd been born anew, and I wanted to explore everything around me again and rediscover the world with this new knowledge.

Gohan cleared his throat and I glanced at him, then at Dende and Popo. I'd forgotten any of them were there; my whole world had been the prince in my arms.

Dende smirked, "I think that's the first time that I've healed you and you haven't immediately thanked me,"

"Thank you," I said quickly, afraid I'd offended him.

"That's okay, you had other things on your mind," the Namek child consoled, shooting Vegeta a grin.

I looked at Gohan again. He looked tired, defeated. Like he'd lived a hundred years and seen terrible things.

"Gohan? Are you… still mad at me?" I asked carefully, letting Vegeta go and facing him.

Gohan blinked slowly, studying me. It was the first time in a long time that he'd looked at me with anything but contempt. The answer was in his eyes. I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders and stepped forward, hugging my son for the first time in over three months.

"I'm sorry Dad," he whispered into my shoulder.

"I know, I forgive you," I murmured back.

"I didn't mean to –"

"I know. Just let it go. I don't blame you and I know you feel terrible for what you did."

He unhooked my arms from around his neck and looked into my eyes for a few seconds. Just stood there and looked.

"I missed you," his voice cracked midsentence and his eyes were bright with the precursors of tears.

"I missed you too," I nodded. Vegeta's tail wandered and coiled around mine. I let the brush of fur against fur sooth me and I sighed, glad this whole mess had been sorted out.

The first thing Trunks did when Vegeta, Gohan and I returned to Capsule Corp was throw himself at his father and hug Vegeta around the waist (which was about as high as he could reach). Vegeta smiled and ruffled his son's lavender hair. Even now, he had a hard time speaking his emotions; and while Gohan and I had shared honest words and these two shared silence, the meaning was the same. Forgiveness. Closure.

Bulma was in tears, hugging everyone – literally _everyone _– and sobbing. When she got around to me, she said the oddest thing.

"I'm so glad you didn't die… again…"

I nodded and patted her gently on the back, "Me too, Bulma, me too."

Vegeta's mouth was on mine, his bare, satin-bronze skin caressing, hiding fathomless muscle. His tail and mine were wound into a single twisted cord, his fur pleasuring the very areas that had been tortured not four hours ago. Vegeta broke the kiss and looked down at me; he'd done that a lot lately, just stopped and stared. I think he was again reveling in how lucky we both were. Fortunate fools. We'd both done some stupid things, said some stupid things, and somehow we still ended up together with everything either of us had ever wanted.

The prince trailed a slender finger down the side of my neck, kissing my forehead gently. His tail, still wrapped with mine, curled around my arousal, stroking slowly, leisurely, savoring the sensation and making us both shiver and sweat.

"Kakarrrrrot," Vegeta purred, rolling the r's into a purr that rumbled from his chest and vibrated into mine.

I arched against him, whimpering his name as his fingers threaded through my hair. If anything had been even a little different in this life; if I hadn't killed my brother to entice Vegeta to come to Earth, if I hadn't healed in time to make it to Namek and save him from the Ginyus, if I had come back from Yardrat early, or late, if I hadn't died against Cell, if he'd refused to fuse with me, the possibilities were endless; if anything had been different, I might never have this.

"Kakarrrrrot," Vegeta purred again, giving each syllable its own tone, yet somehow blending the word into a beautiful, colorful, baritone rush of sound. Only _he _called me that now. To everyone else I was simple, two-syllable, four-letter Goku. To Vegeta I was so much more. I think it was my hand in song-writing that made me appreciate words so much. Such simple things, often used unwisely by people; and never enough to explain the true depth of emotions.

"Stop thinking so hard, Kakarrrrrot," Vegeta smiled, kissing me gently and stroking me again, eliciting a groan, "Just relax,"

I did as he said – hell, I'd jump off a cliff for him if he kept purring my name like that – and let my shoulders loosen, banishing thoughts from my mind and simply letting myself drown in his touch, his scent, his taste. Sensory overload. I smirked, remembering using the term frequently during our first time, but it still rang true.

The night was young, and Vegeta took advantage of the time on our hands to seduce me _slowly_. Setting his own pace, exploring my proffered skin with his hands, tail and mouth. Now and again he would murmur something, purring against my flesh, making me shiver and moan. But mostly he just watched me while he worked, his ebony eyes never leaving mine as he caressed every inch of my body with his own.

Before too long he was preparing me, loosening the tight muscle of my entrance and purring soothingly. I was ready for it this time, and when his fingers brushed against the bundle of nerves deep inside, I howled my approval and lashed my tail, encouraging him for more, always more. He smirked at me, as if reading my mind. Not hard to do, I was practically begging him.

I moaned with him as he entered me, stealing his mouth in an all too brief kiss. Then I broke away, throwing my head back and groaning when he slammed home. Again, and again, he thrust slowly, gently, but passionately, shivering even as I shivered, moaning even as I moaned. We were one entity, one being. It was a lot like being fused, except the other way around; one mind, two bodies. And we reached the brink together, shuddering as one as we cleared the peak and came. He pulled out and curled up against me, still purring, and winding his tail with mind again.

"I love you, Kakarot," he whispered.

"I know, love you too," I replied sleepily, "go to sleep,"

"Okay, Goodnight." He yawned.

"Goodnight."

TBC


	23. Epilogue

**Rock Your World**

Epilogue - Rock Your World

_(Present day. Almost three years later….)_

I return to myself, sprawling against a tree in the grass with my hands stacked behind my head. The sun is setting, dying the sky Vegeta's favorite color. I smile, marveling at how far we've both come. Speak of the Devil, Vegeta appears, smiling to see me so relaxed.

"Kakarot, can I show you something?" I flinch involuntarily, remembering Tien's words from two years ago. Shrugging off my inhibitions, I stand and tilt my head to the side, questioning.

Vegeta smiles again, "Follow me," he hovers for a second before blasting away, throwing over his shoulder, "If you can keep up!"

I laugh and launch joyfully into the air, following his ki trail painted across the sky. He leads me to Capsule Corp, touching down an instant before I do.

Of course he enters through the window; Prince Vegeta's too good for the door, after all. Bulma is there, so is Trunks, Gohan, and Goten.

"What's the occasion?" I ask, tail flicking semi-nervously.

Vegeta grins, "It's our anniversary, Kakarot. Surely you hadn't forgotten?"

"Of course not," I say defensively. _Shit, I forgot again._

Vegeta catches the look in my eye and laughs, "That's okay, I forgot too until the woman reminded me last week."

"I have a name, you know," Bulma says indignantly.

"I know, but to me you'll always be 'woman'," He turns to me, "Just as you'll always be Kakarot to me; even if you label says otherwise."

"Yeah," I nod slowly…"Wait what?" _Label? What's he talking about?_

"Woman," Vegeta intones, waving a hand in some kind of signal I don't recognize.

Bulma nods with a smile and presses a button on a small remote. There's a hissing sound and speakers swing out of the walls.

_What is going on?_

Bulma hands the remote to me, pointing at a triangular button.

"Press play," she says with a smirk that's nothing short of evil.

I do as she says, nervous as hell and sure I'm about to be made fun of. Immediately the room fills with sound, the sound of an electric guitar, _my_ guitar. _ Oh, she didn't!_ I think with a grin.

It's my song, one I wrote a long time ago called "_Rock Your World_" when I was thinking about how music had brought Vegeta and I together. It's _exactly_ the same as it was when I played it for the prince.

"How did you record it?" I ask in disbelief.

"I didn't," Bulma replies breezily, "You did,"

"I did?" I remember no such thing!

Gohan looks up with a smile, "You did,"

"But I –"

"When I first gave you _Ongaku_ there was a small device attached to it that would record anything you play, Bulma put it there," Gohan explains, "When Vegeta was cleaning the guitar for you, he found the device and plugged it into the computer. Every single one of your songs was on it."

I stare. Then look at Vegeta.

"And I didn't know about this 'til now because….?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Vegeta smirks and hands me a thin plastic square. I look at it. It's a CD case. Vegeta made me a CD for our two year anniversary. And I forgot to do anything for him. I feel ashamed.

"Wow, I really don't know what to say," I murmur, giving Vegeta what I hope is a look that cries forgiveness.

Vegeta loops his arm around my shoulders and kisses me gently; the music playing in the background seems to be drowned out for a moment.

"That's enough of an anniversary gift for me," he smiles, "But if you insist it's not enough, I'll happily wait 'til tonight for a more_… appropriate_ thank you," he gives me one of his world-famous leers.

"As you wish," I say automatically.

"Oh, you two," Bulma laughs, "You should come by more often, I forgot how hilarious you are when you're stuck in the same room."

"You mean all the time?" I grin.

Vegeta thwacks me with the back of his hand.

"It doesn't count as being _stuck_ if you _want_ to be in the same room," he says teasingly.

The sun is down; the half-moon above is bleaching the city below as Vegeta, Gohan, Trunks, and Goten fly back towards home. Vegeta and I are less than a foot apart, talking quietly while the younger boys tackle Gohan and piggyback on his shoulders. Gohan's protests and indignant strugglings are ignored, as usual, because we all know he secretly likes the attention.

As the boys bustle through the door, calling dibs on TV rights and who gets the first scoop of ice cream, Vegeta whisks me to the side of the house and pins me against the wall, kissing the breath out of me. We stand that way for a few minutes, locked in the embrace and the taste of each other's lips. We probably would have stayed that way all night if Goten hadn't shouted from his room,

"When you guys are done making out, can you help us divvy up the ice cream? Trunks always cheats and Gohan does a lousy job,"

I'm about to ask him, irritated, why _he_ couldn't do it, but Vegeta just laughs, steals a brief kiss, and opens the door for me.

"After you, my little artist," he grins.

"What a gentleman," I smile and bow exaggeratedly to him as I cross the threshold, "And who's calling who little?" I throw over my shoulder.

Vegeta just laughs again, closes the door behind himself, and follows me after our sons.

And, cheesy though it is to end on this note, I have to admit that life is damn good.

THE END

_The story will continue in the sequel:" Love Has No Cure"..._


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